Year of Hell, Season of Hope
by ForceForGood
Summary: When months of Krenim attacks leave Voyager - and her crew - in desperate straits, Captain Janeway must make a decision she swore she never would. If she can't find the strength to carry her crew, will they have the strength to carry her? AU version of "Year of Hell" two-parter in which the Big Magical Reset Button is not pressed at the end. J/C. Now complete!
1. Chapter 1

_**Author's note:**_ _This is my AU version of the "Year of Hell" two-parter. I've always been sorry the episode ended with the Big Magical Reset Button being pressed so that none of the crew remembered the year's events, and I decided to come up with my own solution. I've tinkered a bit with the order of events here for dramatic purposes (I know, tinkering with the timeline is such a Krenim thing to do). I hope you enjoy it._

 **Chapter 1**

 **Day 179**

 _Captain's log, stardate 51268.4. Yet another Krenim attack this morning. We managed to escape the warships, for now, but Voyager took heavy damage this time. Environmental controls continue to fail. Seven decks have been rendered uninhabitable and we've had to relocate the crew. As a result, the situation has gotten a little worse. Quarters are close, nerves are frayed, and I'm not sure what's more difficult to maintain: Voyager's systems or the crew's morale._

 _Soon afterward we found one of the Krenim's chroniton torpedoes had lodged in the starboard Jeffries tube on Deck 11, Section 2. Tuvok and Seven of Nine were unable to disarm the warhead in time and it detonated, destroying the power grid on that deck. The replicator system was badly damaged and we've gone to emergency rations._

 _Seven was able to determine the temporal variance of the torpedo just before it went off, and I'm hopeful that this new information may be what we need to develop a defense against the Krenim chrono-weapons. Seven has largely recovered from the blast, sheltered as she was by Tuvok's body, but The Doctor informs me that without the medical equipment we lost in the Deck 5 overload four months ago, he is unable to restore Tuvok's sight._

 _I think everyone's feeling a little discouraged right now, but we're going to press on. What's important is that we're together, working toward a single goal: survival._

Captain Kathryn Janeway switched off the data recorder and blew out a long sigh, staring out at the bleak stars outside her ready room window. There was no sign yet of pursuit by the Krenim warships, but over the past six months they had proved to be persistent, devastatingly so. They'd be back, and they'd be determined to put yet another hole in Voyager's hull.

Without thinking, she reached out her hand for her coffee cup, then pulled it back, disappointed. No replicators, no coffee. No wonder she had a headache. She stood up to pace instead, but the floor of the ready room was so littered with debris that she had to kick a lot of stuff to the side to make a path. Her booted toe struck an unexpectedly hard piece, and pain shot up her leg. It took all the strength of character she had not to shout out, although there was no one in the room to hear her relieve her feelings. But it wasn't really the pain that made her angry, she knew. It was the knowledge that despite her best efforts, she had let down her crew. Again.

She felt a surge of anger when she thought again of Tuvok, still weak and in pain, clinging to Seven's arm as she led him from the makeshift Sickbay in the Mess Hall back to his quarters for rest. Just the latest in a long line of casualties, but this one had stung her on a personal level. The crew was already reeling from the loss of Strickler, Emmanual, Lang and Walters. Tearing up her ship was one thing, but hurting her crew was another, and she was not going to give the Krenim another chance to do it. By the time they encountered another warship, they would have new shielding. She would make certain of that.

Limping slightly from her stubbed toe, Janeway left the Ready Room and entered the Bridge. Chakotay was there, deep in discussion with Ayala at Tactical Station. There were only a few other crewmen on the Bridge, those chosen for Beta Shift, and like Janeway most of them were only half in uniform, with jackets discarded in favor of the Starfleet-issued gray undershirts. Alpha Shift had ended several hours ago and by now those crewmembers would have eaten their dinner, if bland field rations were deserving of the word dinner, and would be sleeping in over-crowded rooms, to rise in eight hours and face yet another day of repairs, repairs and more repairs.

"How are things coming?" she asked Chakotay when he had finished talking with Ayala. He was the only one in the room with his jacket still on, though it was left carelessly unzipped. His chin had two day's growth on it, and in combination with the tattoo over his eye it gave an unusually rakish look to his normally serene features.

"Tactical is running an analysis of the chroniton torpedoes based on the new information Seven and Tuvok were able to collect," he replied. "Lt. Carey and his Beta team are going to start on clearing all the electric shorts from the shield generators now. He made Torres go get some rest so she could be fresh, but she said she would come back at 04:00 and get started on diagramming possible shield configurations. She hopes to be ready to start making adjustments by the time Alpha Shift comes back on."

"Good. What happened with the fluctuations in life support on Decks 7 and 8?"

"Still fluctuating. We've moved so many people over to Engineering to help with warp drive and shields that we haven't been able to make it a priority."

Janeway rubbed her temples. "If this keeps up, we're going to have everyone sleeping in the Mess Hall by the end of the week."

"Speaking of sleep, that reminds me," Chakotay said. "Let's walk." He took Janeway by the elbow and led her to the turbolift. "Deck 3," he told the computer.

Janeway knew perfectly well what this meant. "I'm not going to sleep yet," she said.

"Yes, you are," Chakotay said firmly. "You've been up since 06:00, you've been through a battle and a torpedo detonation, and one of your best friends just got seriously injured. You've had a hell of a day, and you need to sleep."

"Not yet. I need to go down to Engineering and check in with Carey."

"I'll do that."

"You've been awake just as long as I have."

"What is this, a competition to see who stays up the latest?" Chakotay was annoyed. "I'll check in with Carey and then go to sleep. You go now. You're exhausted. By the way, have you even eaten?"

"Yes."

"Recently?"

"Yes. The Doctor made me, while I waiting for him to treat Tuvok."

"Nice to know I have an ally." They were at the door to her quarters by now. Chakotay gestured meaningfully toward the door. Janeway was on the point of arguing further, but then she took a good look at Chakotay's determined face and thought better of it. Resigned, she tapped in her security code and the door slid open.

"Sleep well, Kathryn," Chakotay said, and his expression was a little gentler now. Janeway reminded herself that he was just as tired as she was, and forced herself not to be annoyed at his annoyance. They were all not themselves right now, and it was hard to remember to be patient with each other. And probably he was still upset that she had told him to recycle his birthday gift to her last week. Or was it two weeks ago? The watch had been beautiful - a replica of Captain Cray's from the British Navy, and a much-needed reminder that some captains did manage to get their crews home even through adversity - but she just couldn't accept it when there were so many other needs to fill.

Inside her quarters, Janeway went into the head to wash her hands and face. Looking into the mirror, she suddenly understood why Chakotay had been so forceful. She did not look well. There were dark circles under her eyes, and the burn scars on her cheeks looked abnormally prominent in her pale face. Her hair was a frizzy mess. Sighing, Janeway reached up and removed the clip. Soon her long hair tumbled down, and she smoothed it out with her fingers. Actually, tangled as her hair was, this was a definite improvement. The long strands framed her face and blunted the visual impact of the scars. Perhaps...

She'd had her hair long for so many years. She loved the way it looked when it was down, and it had always seemed the perfect compromise to put it up for work and then take it down when she was off duty. But lately it had been so much of a bother. Since the Krenim attacks had begun she had been on duty almost constantly other than when she slept. It took so long to wash and dry her hair when it was this long, and to put it back every morning, and then when she did so much physical labor during the day it just ended up messy and half-falling out of its constraints by the end of the day. Maybe she should cut it. It would be the practical thing to do.

Perfectly practical, and yet she hesitated. She liked it long, and in a strange way, cutting it felt like a capitulation, like she would be admitting that the Krenim situation was not going to be over anytime soon, and they would be limping across this sector for another six months or more, fighting to keep the ship in one piece.

She lowered herself into a chair and thought for a few minutes. Finally, she roused herself and spoke aloud.

"Computer, locate Lt. Nicoletti," she said.

"Lt. Nicoletti is on Deck 4, Section 5," the computer's voice responded.

Janeway moved decisively, heading out the door before she could change her mind. She found Nicoletti replacing power conduits in the corridor.

"Captain Janeway," the engineering officer said in surprise, looking up from her work. Her face was smudged with grease and her curly halo of dark hair looked mussed, too. Apparently Janeway wasn't the only one with hair issues. Nicoletti stood up and tugged uselessly at her rumpled uniform. "Um, we're still working on sections 5 through 7; it's taking longer than we thought, but we're working as fast-."

Janeway held up a hand to forestall her. "I didn't come to check on your work. I was hoping I could borrow you for a few minutes."

"What can I do for you, Captain?"

"Do you still have your haircutting kit?"

Nicoletti looked slightly surprised. "Yes, ma'am. Do you want me to cut your hair now?"

"If you wouldn't mind."

"Of course. I have everything in my quarters. Um, Parsons and Anderson are sleeping in there now, but I guess we can be quiet about it." Nicoletti dropped her tools into a box and left it on the deck as they began to walk down the corridor. It was against regulation to leave tools lying around like that, of course, but since the repairs essentially never ended these days, everyone had been doing it anyway, and Janeway had no energy to spare for a dressing-down. Discipline had become a luxury.

They entered Nicoletti's darkened quarters, one of the tiny dual-occupancy ones. The lieutenant switched on a single lamp and found a chair for Janeway to sit in. Both bunk beds were occupied, and blankets rustled as either Parsons or Anderson rolled over to face away from the light. Nicoletti began rummaging through drawers looking for her things.

"Okay, here we go," Nicoletti whispered. "Just trimming the ends?"

"No," Janeway whispered back. "Cut it to here." She showed Nicoletti with her fingers.

"That much?" Nicoletti asked. "That's a big change. Are you sure?"

"Yes."

Nicoletti pursed her lips for a moment, then gathered Janeway's hair in one hand and lifted it up to approximate what it would look like short. Finally, she nodded.

"I think it will look nice," she whispered. "Is it okay if I part it on the side and put some layers in? That would soften it a bit."

"You're the expert, lieutanant. Just as long as it's easy to take care of."

"It will be, ma'am. Easier than having it this long, anyway."

Nicoletti got to work wetting her hair down and combing it out. Janeway tried to still her nervousness. Can't back out now. And it was just hair, anyway. No one cared what she looked like, not in the state they were in. Everyone had bigger things to worry about. It didn't matter a bit.

The cutting started. The pieces falling to the floor were so long. Maybe she shouldn't have gone so drastic to start with. Well, too late now. Nicoletti worked on in silence until finally she handed Janeway a mirror and said, "Okay. How's that for length?"

Janeway reached up and touched a strand. Her hair now ended above her shoulders. When it dried it would be even shorter. It didn't look great. The wet strands were plastered to her head and stuck together and failed to hide the scars the way they had back in her quarters.

"It's good, thank you," she said, and started to get up.

"Oh, wait, let me dry it and style it," Nicoletti said quickly.

"No, don't do that, it will disturb them too much," Janeway whispered, gesturing at the sleeping forms in the room.

"OK... Well, it will look great once it's dried out and the ends are curled under," Nicoletti said. She sounded a little anxious.

"I'm sure it will. You did well," Janeway tried to smile as she stood up. "Thank you for your help, and sorry I interrupted your work."

"No problem. Anytime, Captain." Janeway left Nicoletti cleaning up the mess on the floor and started to walk the corridors. Her head felt too light, and there was a funny hollow feeling in her stomach, and now the thought of sleep had completely fled her mind. She decided to go check on Carey's progress after all. By now Chakotay would have done his check and gone to his quarters, so there was no danger of being scolded by an overly protective first officer. She ran her fingers through her damp hair and made sure it was neat, at least. Beyond that, there was nothing else she could do about it.

* * *

One thing led to another. She had meant to just check on Carey and then go to bed, but when she saw Tactical's analysis of the Krenim torpedo being downloaded to an Engineering station, she couldn't resist looking it over. Then she started to get some ideas and sat down to run a few shield simulations, and the next thing she knew B'Elanna Torres walked up behind her in Engineering and said, "Anderson, you're up early. You shouldn't be here for another four hours."

Janeway turned around in surprise, and Torres did a double-take. "Oh, sorry, Captain. I didn't recognize you."

"I've been playing with some ideas for new shield configurations," Janeway said quickly, to spare Torres the difficulty of coming up with a compliment on this wretched new haircut. "When you're ready, we can go over them and see what you think."

"Sure thing. I'm ready right now." Torres rolled over a chair and together they began to brainstorm. Things really began to roll with Torres there to add her unique genius to the problem, and by the time Alpha Shift starting filing into Engineering, they had a workable plan. Torres stood and started issuing orders, and soon engineers were bustling to and fro, gearing up to alter the shield generators installed in every section of the ship. Janeway could see Torres had things well in hand, so she excused herself and went back to her quarters.

After a quick sonic shower and a change of clothes, she set about trying to fix her hair. After some experimentation, she looked in the mirror and realized Nicoletti had been right: it did look better now that it was dry and curled under. It half-hid the scars just like she'd hoped. It wasn't quite so bad as she'd feared. Now, to do something about the circles under her eyes. She spent several minutes working on her makeup, and now she thought she could probably get away with Chakotay not noticing she'd just done an all-nighter. Just as she was leaving her quarters, she remembered he might ask her if she'd eaten, and she hurried and went back inside and dug out some field rations and inhaled them. There. Everything perfect.

When she walked out of the turbolift onto the Bridge, Janeway was surprised to see Tuvok seated over at Tactical. His eyes looked just as blank and unfocused as yesterday, yet he was touching the controls of his console with no one standing by him to help. Chakotay was standing next to Harry Kim at Ops, silently watching whatever it was he was doing, so she walked over and asked quietly, "Why is Mr. Tuvok at his station, Commander?"

Chakotay turned and started to say, "The Doctor cleared him as long as he..." Then he saw Janeway, and stopped. He blinked, and just stood there for a long moment looking at her with an unreadable expression in his dark eyes. Harry Kim looked up from the console, and did a double-take just like Torres had. Janeway felt her face begin to flush. Perfect. The short hair was just as big a hit with them as it was with Torres, even fixed up. What had she been thinking? This was a lesson to never make fashion decisions in the dark of night when one is already emotionally compromised.

"Mr. Tuvok?" she prompted Chakotay, and he came to with a little shake of his head and said, "Uh, yes. Tuvok. The Doctor said he's well enough to sit and do desk work. He's learning how to use the console's tactile interface."

"I see," Janeway replied. "What's our status?"

Chakotay began filling her in on each department's morning report. As soon as she was up to speed, she went over to Tactical and inquired into Tuvok's health, trying as always to be as tactful and unemotional as possible in deference to Tuvok's wishes. He seemed well enough, but she could detect in him all the subtle hints she had learned over the years and knew he was forcefully tamping down a sense of powerlessness, even embarrassment, about his condition. She was careful not to expose any reservations she might have about his ability to do his job now that he was blind. He was determined to do what he could, she could see that much, and out of respect for him she would let him do just that.

The day wore on slowly. She spent most of her time keeping close track of Engineering's progress on the new shield configurations. With fluctuating power levels it was hard for them to get all the equipment online at the same time, but they kept at it with a will. As the hours ticked by she grew more and more anxious despite her sleepiness. The Krenim could find them at any moment, and without new shielding they would be sitting ducks. Janeway finally went down to Deck 6 after lunch to lend a hand reconfiguring the shield generators there. The physical work of crawling through Jeffries tubes and pulling out circuits did a better job of keeping her awake than pacing the Bridge had, and it seemed to her that the crewmen she was working beside put in an extra effort when they saw their captain working too, so she gritted her teeth and kept at it.

A few hours later, she finally left. She was so tired now that her vision blurred and the deck beneath her feet sometimes felt like it was wobbling side to side. She really did need to sleep, but first she had to see Seven and explain to her the procedure when Engineering finished with the generators. Then she could rest.

* * *

Chakotay heaved himself out of the Jeffries tube on Deck 7, his movements stiff and clumsy. Climbing ladders up three decks was not exactly a picnic during the best of times, not at his age, and attempting it when he was already exhausted - and overheated from the fluctuating temperatures in this part of the ship - was even worse. Straightening up, he slowly, painfully flexed his shoulders and popped his neck, and heartily wished that this day could be over already.

He found Torres working with a team in Section 10, and she looked up when he walked over and said before he could ask, "No. We're still not up and running on this deck. Every time we turn one generator on, two others go out."

"Fine. I know you're doing your best. What about the turbolifts?"

Torres rubbed her neck wearily. "What about them?"

"They're not working."

"First I heard of it."

"Well, they're not," Chakotay said.

"Well, what do you want me to do? Pull people off shield modifications to fix a turbolift?" Torres snapped. "The shields are our top priority, at least that's what the Captain said."

"Yes, but turbolifts aren't exactly a luxury," Chakotay pointed out. "If we go to red alert in this state, it's going to take 15 minutes for people to get to battle stations through the tubes. And if we need to move equipment around it's going to get difficult. I know you have a lot on your plate, but yes, I think we need to put a few people on turbolift repairs."

Torres growled in annoyance. "Fine. Take Brooks and Tal Celeste. It's not like they're doing much earthly good here, anyway."

"Do they even know how to repair turbolifts?"

"Brooks does, anyway. She can walk Celeste through it."

Chakotay doubted that, but he knew he had to pick his battles. "Fine. Alpha Shift is almost over now. I'm trying to wrap things up. If Beta Shift manages to get the generators up while we're sleeping, does Seven know what to do next?"

"I don't know, I didn't talk to her," Torres said. "Maybe the Captain did."

Just then Vorik walked up with his arms full of burnt-out relays. "Sorry to interrupt, Lieutenant, but do you want to attempt to repair these or simply discard them?"

Torres turned to help Vorik, and Chakotay tapped his comm badge. "Chakotay to Seven of Nine. Did the Captain give you instructions for Beta Shift?"

"No, Commander," Seven answered. "She said she was on her way to speak to me, but that was nearly an hour ago. She must have found a more urgent task."

"All right, I'll track her down. Chakotay out."

He tapped his comm badge again. "Chakotay to Janeway."

There was no answer. He tried again, but there was still no reply.

Torres had finished talking with Vorik and was back at his side. "She's probably asleep," she said.

"Computer, locate Captain Janeway," Chakotay said.

"Captain Janeway is on Deck 6, Section 5."

"Or not," B'Elanna said, looking surprised. "We finished that section an hour ago. I thought she would have gone to bed by now. She was up all night."

Chakotay stared at her. "She was _what_?"

"Yes, Carey said she was there the whole time they tuned up the generators, and then at 04:00 she helped me with the new shield specs until morning."

"And you _let_ her?"

"Well, what was I supposed to do, drag her bodily back to her quarters? You know how she gets."

Chakotay opened his mouth, then closed it, fury mounting in his eyes. Without a word, he turned and marched toward the Jeffries tube hatch, and Torres, looking alarmed, ran to catch up with him, calling back to Vorik that she would be right back. Chakotay yanked open the hatch, clambered in, and started climbing. Torres followed him.

"It's probably just a malfunction in the comm system," she called up to him. "Everything else is broken around here, that probably is, too."

Chakotay didn't answer, he just kept climbing. When he got to Deck 6 he strode purposefully down the corridor, stepping over debris and toolboxes, and Torres couldn't keep up with him. Then, from around a bend in the corridor, she heard him blurt out, " _Kathryn!_ Kathryn- Torres! Get over here!"

Torres ran. Chakotay was bending over the Captain, lying prone on the deck. Chakotay shook her shoulder, but she didn't open her eyes.

"Mah'tok," Torres muttered. She pulled her tricorder out of its pouch and switched it on.

Chakotay hit his comm badge. "Chakotay to the Doctor!"

"We deactivated him to save power," Torres said. She scanned Janeway with the tricorder and squinted at the readings. "But I can turn him back on if we need to..."

"Well, how are we supposed to carry her up the tubes for four decks?" Chakotay barked. He shook Janeway's shoulder roughly and looked distraught. "Come on, wake up!"

"Chakotay, calm down," Torres said, holding out the tricorder for him to see. "Look, her pulse is fine, she's breathing, and we know she's exhausted. This isn't a medical emergency. I know fainting looks bad but Tom says it's usually not serious. The Doctor's going to take one look at her and say she needs to sleep, that's all."

"I'm not going to just leave her here like this-" Chakotay started.

"There are crew quarters just down the corridor. We can carry her in there and put her on a bed."

Chakotay stared down at the Captain's still face. "I told her to sleep. She never listens to me!" Abruptly he smashed at the bulkhead with his fist. "She never" **BANG** " _ever_ " **BANG** "listens!" **BANG**

In response to the noise Janeway woke with a jerk and a gasp, and then looked around her, disoriented. Torres bent down. "Captain! Are you all right?" Chakotay stared at Janeway for a moment and then abruptly stood and walked away several paces.

Janeway blinked up at Torres dully. "Did they hit us again?" she asked slowly.

"No. We think you just fainted," Torres said. "How do you feel? Do you think you could walk a little way down the hall? The turbolifts are out, but we can get you to a bed."

Torres helped Janeway slowly ease into a sitting position against the bulkhead. "Chakotay," Torres called over her shoulder, "see if any of those quarters are empty." But he didn't a muscle, just stood there with his back to them and his hand over his mouth.

"Hey! A little help here!" Torres said. She knew she was bordering on insubordination, but at this point she was too bewildered by Chakotay's display of temper - like nothing she'd seen from him since his Maquis days - to understand what was going on, and too tired to care.

Finally he turned around. "None of them are empty, Torres, all the beds on this deck are being used on a rotating basis, 24/7."

"Well, figure it out! She can't climb the ladders like this."

"I'm fine," Janeway said hoarsely. "Just tired. Give me a minute and then I should be able to make it back to my quarters."

Chakotay just shook his head and then walked around the corner out of sight, and they heard him talking to someone. "Are you both Beta Shift? OK, wrap it up and clear the room double-quick. It's needed."

Janeway began to struggle to her feet. Torres gave her a hand and the Captain managed to be upright by the time Crewmen Andrews and Weiss came around the corner.

"Captain," they both said respectfully, nodding to her as they walked past.

"Gentlemen," she said, and she kept a pleasant expression fixed on her face until they were gone and she could hunch over again with a grimace.

Torres and Chakotay each took an arm and helped her to the crew quarters, and sat her down on the lower bunk. Janeway reached down and took off her boots and then gingerly stretched out on the bed.

"You can get back to your work," Chakotay told Torres.

Torres looked at him a little uncertainly, then shrugged her shoulders. "Right," she said, and turned to go.

"But don't stay at it too late," he called out as she left. "You haven't had enough sleep either."

When Torres was gone, Janeway managed to pry her eyelids open enough to look at Chakotay with trepidation. "Here it comes," she said wryly.

Chakotay pulled a chair over from the desk and sat down by her. "How do you feel?"

"Lousy."

"Really. Could it be because you told me last night you were going to sleep, and then you turned around and went straight back to work?"

"I didn't intend to do that. I just... I had an idea, and I started to work on it, and I lost track of time."

"Fine then, so you stayed up all night, but then you should have gone to bed first thing in the morning. Believe it or not, I can run the Bridge without you for eight hours."

"I know you can. That's not the point."

"Then what _is_ the point, Kathryn? Because I'm really not seeing it. Everyone else on this ships realizes they have to stop and rest at some point. But not you. No, you don't need sleep, or food, or to accept a simple birthday present from your friend, and when Deflector Control's on fire it's no problem, you just run in anyway!" Chakotay was really angry. She hadn't seen him this worked up since their fight over the Borg alliance, and it was shocking to see. "It must be really nice to be superhuman, Kathryn... up until the moment you pass out in a corridor! You scared the hell out of me!"

Janeway sat back up, irritation overriding exhaustion. "You want to know what my point it? My point is, everyone's tired! Everyone on this ship is overworked and half-sick or injured, and everyone keeps going because we have to! We're fighting for our lives, Chakotay! Remember Starfleet Command's clever little Kobayashi Maru exercise? That was nothing on this, because at least that ended and everyone had a nice little philosophical discussion about it and then went home to see their families and... and eat good food, and sleep in a clean bed. This, this, is six months of hell, and it's going to keep on being hell, day after day, until we get these shields up and get the warp drive back to top speed and get the hell out of this sector! I need shields more than I need sleep, so stop shouting at me for doing my job."

"You do realize, I hope, that there are 143 people on this ship, and 143 jobs to do, and that you don't actually have to do them all yourself?" he shot back.

"I know that, and I _have_ been delegating, but they're looking to me, Chakotay. It isn't enough for me to be doing just enough, they need to see me fighting harder and longer and stronger, because that will give them the courage they need to be strong enough, too."

"It's a nice little theory, but at what cost? Where are you going to draw the line? Because I don't enjoy watching my friend work herself to death."

She couldn't help but feel a stab of guilt. "I did push it a little too far today. I've been operating on instinct for so long that I didn't think before I acted. I... misjudged, and I am sorry. I didn't mean to alarm you."

"Well, that's something," Chakotay said, and he really did sound somewhat mollified.

"What would I would do without you?" Janeway asked softly. "But I can't afford to think about myself right now. Because I'm the leader. What happens to the crew if I'm not strong enough to carry them anymore?"

Chakotay rubbed his face wearily. "I don't know, Kathryn. Maybe then they'll be strong enough to carry you."

He was silent for a minute, and she thought maybe the storm was over and she lay down and let her eyelids slide shut. She was so tired that everything was starting to feel floaty and surreal.

She heard Chakotay stand up. "Get some sleep. I don't want to see you before 08:00."

"08:00?" she mumbled. "That's much too long-"

"08:00. If I find out you've done anything with that time other than sleep or eat, if I see you starting work even one minute before, I will personally drag you back in here. You know the Doctor would take my side, so I wouldn't push my luck if I were you."

"Oh... Chakotay, I almost forgot!" Her eyes flew open and she started to sit up. "I was going to talk to Seven and tell her what to do next..."

"I'll take care of it."

"And whoever's bed I'm using, we'll have to find them a different one. You can open my quarters..."

"I'll take care of it. Sleep."

There didn't seem much point in arguing. Janeway rolled over onto her side and closed her eyes. As she drifted off, she almost thought she felt Chakotay touching her hair gently, but when she woke later from a very deep sleep to the sound of Ensign Fukai climbing up into the bunk bed above her, she realized it had only been a dream. A dream dredged up from the memory of what Mark used to do whenever she wasn't feeling well. She really must have been tired, then. She hadn't dreamed of Mark in a long time. She rolled over and went back to sleep.

* * *

In the morning, Janeway had to admit she felt like a different person. Dressed in a fresh uniform, she went to the Mess Hall and found the Doctor there treating Ensign Fitzpatrick for a laceration on his arm, using an old-fashioned bandage since they had no dermal regenerators left.

"Captain," the Doctor greeted her coolly. "Commander Chakotay said you weren't feeling well last night. Have a seat and let me examine you."

Janeway wondered just how much Chakotay had told him. Maybe not everything, or surely the Doctor would look more concerned. She patiently submitted to being scanned, and the Doctor frowned and said, "You're dehydrated, and your blood sugar's low." He turned off the tricorder. "Nothing a little breakfast can't fix."

She sat down at a table and rehydrated some oatmeal. Water was surely the most depressing breakfast drink imaginable, but that was what they had, so that was what she drank.

When she was done she started to head out of the mess hall, was struck by a thought, and turned back. "What time is it, Doctor?"

"07:58," the Doctor said.

Janeway sighed, came back in, and sat down again. "Tell me when it's 08:00."

* * *

 **Day 181**

 _Captain's log, stardate 51270.3_

 _At last, we have a scrap of good news. After two days of round-the-clock modifications, we've been successful in designing a new set of temporal shields that we're hopeful can protect us from chroniton torpedoes. Maybe once the Krenim discover we have a defense against them, they won't be so eager to start a fight, and perhaps we'll be able to pass through this sector in peace._

 **TO BE CONTINUED**


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

 **Day 183**

 _Captain's log, stardate 51272.7_

 _We've had our first chance to test our new temporal shields. This afternoon we were attacked by a Krenim warship, but their torpedoes could not penetrate our shields. Then we detected a temporal anomaly originating 20 light years from our position. We were unable to outrun it, but when the distortion struck Voyager she was unharmed. We believe the temporal shielding protected us from the phenomenon, but we saw the warship behind us disappear entirely. Not even a scrap of debris or a warp trail remains. So far we have been unable to explain what happened._

 _Even stranger, long-range scans now reveal that the space around us has been significantly altered. Before the anomaly, this sector was filled with Krenim colonies and warships. Now, we see no colonies and just a handful of ships. As if history itself had been erased. Despite the drain our new shields place on the power grid, I've elected to keep them up at all times until we know more._

"Captain!" Harry Kim's voice rang out across the Bridge. "A ship just dropped out of warp in front of us. Its design... it's not like anything I've ever seen before."

"Onscreen," Janeway said. The image of a ship popped up on the viewscreen; it was enormous, with a long and graceful design: six warp nacelles like the spokes of a wheel at the rear, and six long tapering pylons at the front with what looked like a focusing lens of some sort nestled at the tips. "Why didn't our scans pick it up?"

"That entire vessel is in a state of temporal flux," Seven said. "It appears they exist outside of spacetime. They are using the same chroniton technology as the Krenim warships."

Chakotay stood at the front of the Bridge, just behind Tom Paris. "Prepare for evasive maneuvers," Chakotay told the helmsman, but just as Paris opened his mouth to acknowledge, a high-pitched whine filled the air and suddenly both men disappeared in a haze of amber light.

"Harry!" Janeway's voice rang out. "Get them back!"

Kim scanned his console and shook his head helplessly. "Their hull is infused with a seamless web of chroniton particles, Captain. We can't beam through that. They're gone."

"They are hailing us," came Tuvok's dry voice from Tactical.

"Onscreen," Janeway said.

The image of a Krenim man, his graying hair cropped close to his head, appeared on the screen.

"State your identity," he said.

"I'm Captain Kathryn Janeway of the Federation starship Voyager. Who are you, and what have you done with my men?"

"I am Annorax of the Krenim Imperium." Unlike the warship captains they had encountered previously, Annorax's voice was calm, measured, even cultured. "We've transferred your crewmen to our vessel for further analysis." He paused a moment to survey Janeway, then continued: "You have no idea how you have complicated my mission. Thanks to your temporal shielding, our latest temporal incursion went badly awry and the Imperium has been reduced to a pre-warp state. Please lower your shields so that I can attempt to restore what was lost."

Janeway scoffed. "We saw what happened to an unshielded ship during your last temporal incursion. I have no intention of permitting you to erase us from history."

Annorax sighed. "I don't want to destroy you, Captain Janeway, but I must not allow you to divert me from my mission. Your sacrifice will restore the lives of countless millions. I'm sorry." The transmission cut off.

"Captain, I'm reading a massive energy buildup," Kim said. "Some kind of weapon."

"Full power to shields!"

An intense blue-white light radiated from the focusing crystal in Annorax's timeship and washed over Voyager's hull.

"Temporal shields are weakening," Seven said.

"Captain, that energy beam... it's pushing us out of the spacetime continuum," Kim warned.

"The vessel's mass prevents it from exceeding warp 6," Seven said. "We can outrun it."

"Our structural integrity is still impaired," Tuvok said. "If we go to warp, the damage to Voyager could be extreme."

"We have to try and get Tom and Chakotay back," Torres shouted from the Engineering station. "We can't just leave them there."

"Captain, shields are failing!" Kim warned.

Janeway pressed her lips together. "We'll have to come back for them. All hands, clear the outer sections and prepare for wide-scale breaches. Tuvok, activate Tom's transverse bulkheads. Jenkins, engage warp 7."

Voyager shook violently as the stars stretched to a blur, and they could hear the unmistakable sound of rending metal all around them. Crewmembers cried out and grabbed on to the nearest railing for support as the ship trembled and dipped alarmingly.

"We're losing the outer hull," Tuvok said. "The transverse bulkheads are holding."

"They're not in pursuit," Kim reported.

Janeway quickly looked at long-range scans and tapped at her controls. "Jenkins, see if you can make it to the following coordinates. Let's try hiding in that nebula."

"Aye captain."

* * *

Janeway pushed her hair back out of her face and continued trying to make her way to the turbolift. The corridor was packed with dirty-faced, miserable crewmembers who tried to make way for her when they saw her coming.

Most outer sections of Voyager were now uninhabitable, exposed to the vacuum of space due to the many cracks and tears in the outer hull. The power grid was operating at 9 percent and life support had failed on 12 decks. The entire crew of 143 - make that 141, now that Chakotay and Tom were gone - were packed into the top three decks. Already the air was beginning to smell stale, although she could hear the filters operating at their top speed, and the corridors were uncomfortably hot with so many bodies packed in so tightly. Those with the worst injuries were in the Mess Hall being treated by the Doctor as best as he could with his limited equipment, but many here were nursing wounds as well, and the stifled groans and cries could be heard over the rumble of many voices.

"Mr. Neelix, we're meeting in the briefing room," she said as she squeezed past him. He had been trying to help Ensign Wildman get little Naomi to stop crying, but he stopped what he was doing with an apology to Samantha and followed Janeway. "Seven, in the briefing room. Quick as you can."

At last she had the senior staff gathered together, what was left of them. Torres was slumped at the far end of the table with tear tracks shining unashamed on her cheeks. Kim sat silently beside her, one arm around her shoulders, his face set. Janeway's heart was wrung for them, knowing how close they both were to Tom - and B'Elanna had been close to Chakotay, too. A double blow for her.

"All right, everyone, let's get started," Janeway said. "I want reports on every department. B'Elanna, engines?"

Torres smeared a hand across her cheeks and cleared her throat. "One of the warp nacelles is still offline. The other one's a lost cause."

"Tuvok, shields?"

One by one they gave their reports. Each time Janeway felt her heart sink a little lower. They'd been in some pretty grim situations before, but never before had it been quicker to say what _was_ working on the ship than what wasn't.

"The nebula will keep us safely hidden for now," she said after she had delivered the Doctor's report for him, "and we need to begin on repairs as quickly as possible. The problem is going to be life support. Oxygen levels are dropping quickly. As it stands, Voyager can no longer sustain its crew. Suggestions?"

A silence descended over the briefing room. Everyone was looking down or away. But though Janeway allowed the silence to stretch into minutes, no one spoke up.

Was it because they had no ideas? Or was it because they all knew the solution, the only answer that made sense, and no one wanted to speak it out loud?

Janeway rose and began touching controls on the large screen on the wall. Several of the senior staff looked at her expectantly, but when she didn't look at them or say anything, just flipped through screen after screen after screen, eyes went back down to the floor.

She looked for it. The second option. Looked again and again, at the power grid report, at the life support system, at the repair time estimates. Maybe there was another solution. There had to be. There always was. But the more she looked, the more she was forced to accept the truth. There was only one thing to do, and it was the one order she had vowed to herself four years ago that she would never, ever give.

She no longer had a choice.

"Seven," Janeway said quietly. "Pull up the crew roster. Divide the crew into four groups. The first group is us, the senior officers. We'll remain here and make the repairs to Voyager. Put everyone else into three equal groups. Tuvok, you'll choose a leader for each group and convey instructions to them. Mr. Neelix, gather the field rations and distribute them among the crew equally. We should have enough for everyone to have two months' worth of food. Torres, run a check on the shuttles and all escape pods and make sure they're spaceworthy. We'll have the three groups proceed to them in an orderly fashion and evacuate the ship. They'll be instructed to set course toward the Alpha Quadrant, avoid Krenim ships, seek out allies and get onto faster ships if possible. Kim, see that each pod is equipped with a subspace beacon and slave them in to the central processor. That's how we'll keep track of everyone. Once everyone's ready, we'll meet in the Mess Hall and I'll make the announcement to one group at a time. Any questions?"

There were none. No one looked shocked - so they _had_ known what needed to be done - but some of them could not quite hide the fear in their eyes.

She knew how they felt.

"I know this feels like a failure," she said, and she could not keep her voice from faltering. "Each of you has done their best, but determination alone isn't going to hold this ship together. It's time we faced reality. Asking the crew to stay would be asking them to die. Once Voyager is repaired, we will try, somehow, to rescue Chakotay and Tom. Then when we find everyone else - and we will, we _will_ find each other again - I expect everyone to be in one piece with some interesting stories to tell. Dismissed."

One by one, they left the briefing room. Seven was the last to leave as she guided Tuvok slowly out, but then Tuvok told Seven, "Wait for me on the Bridge," and he turned back and felt his way along the wall toward Janeway.

"Captain," he said quietly. "Would it not be better for us all to evacuate? Given Voyager's damaged state, the probability of surviving an armed conflict with Annorax is marginal."

"Oh, I know the odds. But we have to stay. Voyager's done too much for us."

Tuvok tilted his head slightly. "Curious. I have never understood the human compulsion to emotionally bond with inanimate objects. This vessel has done nothing. It is an assemblage of bulkheads, conduits, tritanium. Nothing more."

"Oh, you're wrong," Janeway murmured. "It's much more than that. This ship has been our home. It's kept us together. It's been part of our family. As illogical as this might sound, I feel as close to Voyager as I do to any other member of my crew. It's carried us, Tuvok. Even nurtured us. And right now it needs us."

"I respect your decision," Tuvok said. "And I... regret I cannot see your face. Are you well?"

"Well enough."

Unexpectedly, Tuvok lifted his hand and reached out toward her, searching for her face. Janeway stepped forward, took his hand in hers, and laid it on her cheek. Quietly, slowly, Tuvok searched her face with both hands, and Janeway could not stop her face from crumpling at his gentleness and care.

"Do not be distressed, Captain," Tuvok murmured. "If it is possible for this crew - and this ship - to live long and prosper, then they will do so under your guidance."

"Thank you, old friend," Janeway whispered.

* * *

Chakotay had never been so unhappy at being treated so well in his life.

After being beamed aboard the Krenim timeship, he and Paris had each been taken to their own quarters and told they would be escorted to dinner in one hour. They were definitely prisoners - the doors had locked behind them, with guards remaining in the hallway to watch over them - but the quarters were spacious and plush, and clean clothing had been left for them on the beds. After they had cleaned themselves up, they were escorted to an even more sumptuous dining room, occupied by none other than their abductor himself, Annorax.

The guards withdrew and the doors swished shut behind them.

"Please, sit down, eat," Annorax said to them, gesturing to the table covered with a variety of beautifully arranged dishes. "Would you like some Malkothian spirits?"

Paris crossed his arms and stayed rooted in place. "No thanks. We're not hungry, and we don't drink with murderers."

"Murderers?" Annorax said mildly. "Quite the opposite, actually. I'm trying to save lives, or rather, restore them. Please, sit. Let's talk."

"Tom," Chakotay said quietly, nodding toward the table.

Paris rolled his eyes. "Anything for such a charming host," he said as he grudgingly sat down.

"I was hopeful we could have a civilized discussion about the predicament we all find ourselves in," Annorax said.

"Civilized discussion? You abducted us, and then we heard your little weapon firing up right after you brought us on board. You fired on Voyager, didn't you?" Paris said. "How exactly do you expect us to react to that?"

"With some degree of dignity and restraint," Annorax said, nodding toward Chakotay.

"What happened to Voyager?" Chakotay asked.

"Janeway went to warp. They slipped away from us. I'd like to know where she went."

"We don't know," Chakotay said.

"And we wouldn't tell you if we did," Paris added.

"Please, eat," Annorax said. "You must be hungry, and we have here a unique selection of delicacies. You won't find them anywhere else in the galaxy."

With a jerk of his head, Chakotay indicated to Paris that he should obey. It was a cardinal rule for prisoners - always eat when you have the chance, because you don't know when it will come again.

"Can we take the leftovers home?" Paris said as he took a bite. "Our crewmates are getting sick of field rations. Your people blew up our replicators."

"I don't command the warships," Annorax said. "I'm not responsible for their actions and I answer to no one. This ship exists outside of spacetime. We have our own unique mission."

"Which is?" Chakotay said.

"We are working to restore the Krenim Imperium to its former glory. Once, our colonies spread across thousands of lightyears. Then there was a disastrous temporal incursion that resulted in a decimated population, a reduction in territory, a loss of technology and power. I am attempting to right that wrong."

"By erasing people from history?" Paris said. "Nice. Ingenious solution. A real winner."

"Yes. I can control the destiny of a single molecule or an entire civilization," Annorax said. "But I can't do it as long as Voyager has her temporal shields up."

Chakotay took a bite of food. He had to admit was one of the most delicious things he had ever tasted, but it felt like dust in his mouth when he thought of what Kathryn and the rest of the crew were eating back on Voyager. He covered his revulsion and forced himself to smile at Annorax. Right now the captain of the timeship held all the cards. He must cooperate with him, or at least seem to, and gather all the information he could until they knew how to help Voyager.

"I appreciate the difficulty you're in, but we can't help you destroy our ship," he told Annorax.

"I may not need to destroy her. You know Voyager's history, the people in this sector you've had contact with, the effects you've had on this timeline. You could help me make the calculations for a new temporal incursion. One that would keep Voyager safe, maybe even improve her condition, and also restore the damage done to the Imperium."

Paris dropped his fork and stood up. "I'd rather spend a year in solitary confinement than listen to this," he said. "Haven't you been listening? We won't help you destroy _any_ people, not just our own."

"Tom, hold on," Chakotay said. "Let's hear him out. Maybe if he makes a precise enough calculation, he can do it without hurting anyone."

"Chakotay, we can't trust him!"

"You don't need to," Annorax said. "We need each other. At the moment, that is enough. Try to keep an open mind, Mr. Paris, and if you can't, feel free to return to your quarters."

"That's the best idea I've heard yet," Paris said.

"Sit down, Tom," Chakotay said, his voice steely. "That's an order."

Paris shot him a contemptuous look. "Or what? You'll take away my holodeck privileges?" He strolled to the door, which opened to reveal several men in uniform waiting outside.

"Obrist, take Mr. Paris back to his quarters," Annorax called to them, and Tom vanished down the corridor, accompanied by his guard.

Chakotay stared down at his plate, trying to control his rage. What was it about Tom Paris that always made him want to start smashing things? Annorax shot him a sympathetic look. "I've never seen such an intransigent young man," he said mildly. "Is he always like this?"

Chakotay had to admit to himself that Paris was not. He'd been a pain in the backside from the moment he'd joined Chakotay's crew back in their Maquis days, always questioning orders, talking back, and making jokes at the most inappropriate times. But from the day he'd set foot on Voyager Tom had been as meek as a lamb with few exceptions, keeping only his habit of joking around, albeit in a somewhat muted manner.

He'd always assumed it was Paris' time at a penal colony that had taught him some modicum of self-control, but this instant insubordination now that they were off Voyager left Chakotay pondering a new theory. Maybe it was personal. Maybe it was something about Chakotay himself that set Paris off.

No. That couldn't be it. Paris had had problems with authority before Chakotay had met him: his difficulties with his father, a Starfleet admiral, and his deception to his commanding officer after the disaster at Caldik Prime which resulted in his expulsion from Starfleet. So it wasn't so much Chakotay who set him off as it was Kathryn who had kept him under control all this time.

How had Kathryn done it? She had never been particularly severe with Paris, although she had made it clear to him from the beginning that she had high expectations. Chakotay had been so certain that it was a mistake putting Paris on the Bridge crew, but before long she'd had Tom eating out of her hand, showing up to all his shifts on time, going out of his way to help in every way possible during staff meetings, even teasing her when none of the other junior officers had the guts to do so.

Suddenly it dawned on Chakotay. That was it. The teasing. That was the give-away. It wasn't anything personal about him, or Owen Paris, or anyone else. It was a gender thing. Tom Paris didn't know what to do with male authority other than resist it, and he didn't know what to do with women other than charm them. Chakotay had a sudden bizarre urge to laugh. He wondered if Kathryn had known that. He'd have to tell her his new theory when he got back to Voyager and see her reaction. Probably she'd be deliciously amused by it.

"I was very impressed by your comment," Annorax said, and Chakotay pulled his focus back to the here and now. "You seem to understand the subtleties of time."

"Professor Vassbinder might've disagreed with you," Chakotay said wryly. "I failed his course in temporal mechanics."

Annorax shrugged, and took a drink of spirits. "Beyond study and instrumentation, there is instinct. Not everyone has the ability to truly perceive time, its colours, its moods. Perhaps you do."

"I'm certainly willing to give it a try."

 **TO BE CONTINUED**


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**

When the last of the escape pods had vanished into the distance, the seven remaining crewmembers gathered on the Bridge. Already the air was getting easier to breathe, but the ship felt as cold and empty as a ghost ship from ancient Earth lore. They settled on a plan for prioritizing repairs and went their separate ways to tackle their various tasks.

Thus began the long, slow grind to bring Voyager's damaged systems back to life. If the repairs had seemed grueling before, with an entire crew to shoulder the load, it was nothing to what they experienced now. Every day Torres donned an environmental suit so she could work in Engineering, where there was still no life support. The Doctor, who did not need to breathe, assisted her as much as he could. Harry faced the task of repairing the power grid one painstaking deck at a time. Seven and Tuvok together worked on replenishing their depleted torpedo banks. Janeway and Neelix cataloged damage deck by deck and worked on anything and everything, from the water reclamation system to the EPS conduits.

The work was exhausting, and morale hit rock-bottom. Continual repetitive tasks with nothing to break up the monotony meant that the days seemed to blend into one long unending day. After several weeks of this, Janeway forgot what it was like to sleep and work in a normal schedule, falling into a pattern of getting up whenever she woke up, no matter how early - and anxiety frequently drove her to insomnia - and working as long as her body could stand, before falling into bed to start the whole cycle over again. She sometimes thought vaguely of how unhappy Chakotay would be if he knew she was doing this again, but she couldn't seem to snap out of it.

She could not stop thoughts from coming to her, dark thoughts, that their dream of returning to the Alpha Quadrant was over, that they would be lucky just to survive, that the crew in their defenseless escape pod fleets - which had by now left sensor range - would be destroyed by the Krenim, or enslaved by some other hostile force, or suffer a slow death of starvation in the emptiness of space. She thought if she worked hard enough perhaps she would be too tired to think of such things, but it never worked. She was sick over Chakotay and Tom. Were they being subjected to torture? Had they been "analyzed" by Annorax and then discarded when they were no longer useful? Was there any hope of ever even learning their fate?

Even Neelix, who could usually be counted on to try and cheer everyone up no matter how grim the situation, seemed morose and lethargic. Janeway wondered if he regretted joining the Voyager crew now, if he would not have rather stayed in Talaxian space with his own people and faced the dangers of the Kazon, who were beginning to seem positively primitive in her memory compared to the Krenim's sophisticated methods of warfare. The others she rarely saw, except when they happened to be in the Mess Hall at the same time to eat their carefully measured ration of preserved food products. They spoke from time to time over the comm system to coordinate repairs, but no one had the time or energy for much socializing. She thought perhaps they were having the same dark thoughts she was. If they were, she had no words of comfort for them.

One day she was on Deck 3, trying to locate a leak in the water reclamation system. Her investigation took her into Chakotay's quarters. It was a disaster inside. A support beam had smashed his coffee table and dust and rubble lay thick over everything. Reminders of Chakotay were all around and Janeway was abruptly hit by memories that made her throat ache. Chakotay. How strange to think she had once thought of him as a foe to be defeated. Only four years ago she would have been happy to arrest him and go home feeling satisfied at a job well done. How quickly he had transitioned into a reluctant ally, then a respected colleague, then a cherished friend. And then their experiences on New Earth had added a new element to the relationship, one she tried not to think of but could never quite put out of her mind. Possibilities that must remain unexplored but could not be erased.

And she thought of the question she had asked Chakotay only a few days before he was taken from her.

 _What would I do without you?_

Well, now she knew the answer. She would go on. She had no other choice.

Janeway pulled out her tricorder and scanned for water leaks. She didn't find any, but the scan did show a rare metal that surprised her, and out of curiosity she followed it. Maybe it was something that could be used in the repairs.

She found it lying under a scrap of upholstery among the broken glass of the table: a gold pocketwatch with a long chain. Breathing out a long sigh, Janeway stood up and polished off the dust with the hem of her tank top. It was every bit as beautiful as she remembered: the watch Chakotay had tried to give her for her birthday, the one modeled after the watch Captain Cray wore when he sailed triumphant into London Harbor with his ship in pieces but his crew intact. She'd told Chakotay to recycle it, and that exasperating man had defied orders and kept it.

It took a little time to figure out the mechanics of the watch, but she managed to set the time. She wasn't at all certain it would still work, but to her surprise it immediately started ticking as soon as she had wound it up. The second hand moved in a steady rhythm around and around and the minute hand glided very slowly down. She checked it against the tricorder and discovered that it kept time perfectly.

She thought she should be angry at Chakotay, but all she felt was a profound gratitude. And she knew in an instant that she would not be using this gold to patch up some petty EPS conduit relay. With a decisive movement, she clipped it to the waist of her pants and took a look in Chakotay's cracked mirror. Not bad. Not bad at all. Completely non-regulation, of course. If the admirals at Starfleet Command could see her now! But there was no one here on the ship to see but her own crew.

Though she didn't know it, she had a smile on her face as she went back into the corridor and resumed her search for the water leak. And when she had found it and fixed it, she realized she was tired and with thoughts of Chakotay foremost in her mind, she actually convinced herself to go to sleep before she wore herself down to a frazzle.

The next evening, she noticed the watch's ticking slowing down. It was time to rewind, which meant it had been 24 hours since she first wound it. It was time to sleep again.

The watch changed everything. Every night she knew by the slowing ticking that it was time to stop work, wind it again and go to sleep. Every night she fell asleep to the steady tick-tick-tick and the rhythmic noise seemed to help her stay asleep for longer periods of time. In just a few days she began to feel noticeably better.

Now that she was on an upswing, Janeway began to find more mental space to concentrate on lifting up the others. Instead of working beside the Doctor in their usual silence as they repaired the lighting on the Bridge one night, she asked him how he was doing, and he began to speak of his frustration over his inability to help his patients with such limited equipment, and the remorse he felt over the deaths of Strickler and Emmanual, although there was nothing he could have done differently to save them. Talking about it seemed to relieve his feelings, and Janeway was glad she'd found the time to listen. The next day, she saw as she walked past Tuvok's quarters that the rubble in the corridor must make it difficult for him to navigate without tripping. She spent some time clearing it away, and when Tuvok came along and realized what she was doing, he sat nearby and recited the teachings of Surak to keep her company.

Janeway never bumped into B'Elanna, since she spent almost all her waking hours in Engineering, but once she commed her to discuss the dilithium chamber and then worked to draw B'Elanna out into a conversation. She was afraid to bring up Tom's name, for fear it would be too painful for B'Elanna, but the conversation turned to Chakotay and the adventures they shared in their Maquis days. Of her own volition, B'Elanna ended up sharing a story about a bar fight Tom had started during his time with them, and how annoyed Chakotay had been about having to pay the damages, and B'Elanna actually laughed out loud remembering the verbal lashing Chakotay had unleashed on poor Tom.

And Neelix. Dear Neelix. As sullen as he had been lately, it was remarkably easy to get him going about his favorite holidays as a child, until he was listing in great detail every decoration, every dish, every tradition associated with them, and Janeway was almost sorry she'd brought it up.

Neelix said, too, that she looked "handsome" with her new pocketwatch, and Janeway often thought, as she felt it swing at her waist as she worked throughout the day, that it was remarkable how good Chakotay was at taking care of her... even when he wasn't present.

* * *

Thus began Chakotay's initiation into the intricacies of time. Every day he met with Annorax and his temporal engineers and began exploring possibilities. Foremost in his mind was the need to undo the damage that had been done to Voyager. When he thought of all the crew had suffered, and the deaths, and the battle-scars inflicted on both body and spirit, and he thought of Kathryn and the misery she had endured trying to save everyone, his blood boiled and he became all the more determined to undo it all.

It wasn't easy. They had been at it for a month now, and so far all the simulations they had tried had failed. But Annorax was patient. It always took months to find a solution, he said, and there was no rush. On this ship, protected from spacetime itself, there was no aging, no limitations of time. They would continue the calculations as long as it took until they were certain it was perfect.

Paris was little help. Mostly he stayed in his quarters and played games with some of the crew when they were off-duty. He had actually managed to befriend several of them, particularly the first officer, Obrist. Paris would listen whenever Chakotay came to give him an update, and grudgingly offered information when Chakotay was uncertain about the timeline of events in Voyager's history in this sector, but he clearly disapproved of the whole venture. His lack of enthusiasm annoyed Chakotay, but he did understand some of what Paris must be feeling. He must be missing B'Elanna. And, like Chakotay, Voyager was the only place in his life Paris had ever really been at peace. It was hard for them to be away.

"Why don't you want to save Voyager?" he asked Tom one night. "Why won't you help me get her back to the way she was before?"

"Come on, Chakotay," Paris said. "It's never going to happen."

"But suppose it could? Wouldn't you want to then?"

"I'm not so sure," Paris said slowly. "Think about it. Think about the day we came to the Delta Quadrant. If someone back then had offered you the chance to undo that day, you would have jumped at the chance, wouldn't you? You would have chosen to stay home in the Alpha Quadrant. And it would have been the worst mistake of your life, but you never would have known it. You never would have known all the good that would have happened if you'd stayed here. All the friends we've made, the way the crew turned into a family? If you had stayed back home, you probably would have been turned into mincemeat by either the Cardassians or the Federation by now. It's the same here. You're trying to undo the bad, but you're going to undo all the good, too."

"What good?" Chakotay could not think of anything good that had happened since the day they had entered Krenim space. "How was it good that Tuvok was blinded?"

"It wasn't," Paris said. He looked unusually sober and was silent for a long moment, and then he slowly began to speak again. "But Seven. Think about Seven. Tuvok saved her life in that blast. She was almost crying when the Doctor told her about his eyes. It was probably the most human moment she'd ever had. And after that she was so careful with him, guiding him wherever he went and helping him learn how to cope with it all. I've never seen her so patient. It changed her. For the better. Do you want to take that away from her?"

"I suppose not," Chakotay said slowly. "If only we could take away the bad, and not the good..."

"The trouble is," Paris said, "there's no way to know when, or how, one will turn into the other. Isn't that why you've been having such trouble with all your simulations? Maybe it would be better just to leave well enough alone."

Chakotay paced Paris' room, and thought of Ensign Lang lying dead on the Bridge, of that terrible day when Deck 5 had overloaded, of the cries and groans of the injured in the Mess Hall with the Doctor nearly helpless to heal them, of the exhaustion and misery in the eyes of everyone he passed, for months on end. And he thought of Kathryn, lying unconscious in the corridor, working herself to death trying to fix it. And who knows how much more she was punishing herself without him there to watch over her, how badly they might all be suffering, wherever they were, and he felt his resolve hardening. If it was in his power to spare them all that, didn't he have a duty to try?

"I'm not ready to give up yet," he said.

* * *

 **Day 211**

They had been in the nebula for four weeks when Seven of Nine came to Janeway's quarters one morning with PADD in hand.

"The updated repair analysis you requested, Captain," she said.

Janeway took the PADD Seven handed her and read through everyone's reports. She blew out a big sigh when she saw the revised time estimate at the end.

"Six more weeks?" she said. "That's nearly twice as long as we had anticipated. What happened?"

"Lt. Torres has been having great difficulty with the starboard nacelle. And Ensign Kim discovered the gases from this nebula have corroded the power relays in the outer sections. We've begun bleeding power. They'll need to be bypassed before we attempt to leave."

Despite her determination to be positive, Janeway couldn't help but feel discouraged at this news. "I thought this nebula would be a safe haven until we finished repairs, but it's turning into a permanent residence."

"It has protected us from Annorax," Seven pointed out.

"I used to love nebulas," she murmured, more to herself than to Seven. "Right now I feel like I could happily go all my life without seeing another."

Six more weeks of repairs. Six weeks. And that was assuming all went well. Suddenly Janeway was struck by a chilling thought, one that sent her scrolling back quickly to look at Neelix's report again. What she saw there made her sink down slowly into her chair.

"Captain?" Seven asked.

"Seven, did you show these reports to anyone else?"

"No." Seven gave her a look that was all too knowing. "Are you looking at the rations inventory?"

"Yes."

"Then you know we will run out of rations before we run out of repairs." Seven stated it as matter-of-factly as if she were informing Janeway she intended to go for a short walk before breakfast.

A numb sensation crept over Janeway's body as she stared at the PADD for several minutes and tried to think. The replicators were hopelessly damaged. They simply didn't have the components needed to fix them, even if they were willing to drop all other repairs to do so. And no warp drive meant no way to get to an M-class planet to scavenge, even if they had the courage to poke their nose out of this nebula with no idea of where the timeship might be.

"What would we have to do to make the rations last long enough?" she asked Seven slowly.

"We must reduce our consumption to two meals per day."

"I see."

 _How am I supposed to tell the others this?_

They were all so tired and discouraged already. Kim was still wheezing from being exposed to the nebula's gases when his oxygen mask malfunctioned four days ago. Tuvok was still weakened from the torpedo detonation that had blinded him. How the hell was she supposed to tell them they had to go on short rations? And still keep up the same pace of work?

 _I can't. I can't. I can't._

It was the first time in her life she wished with total sincerity that she had never joined Starfleet. She had known from the beginning she would be in battles, known her own life would be in danger, known she would see friends and colleagues hurt and killed. But if she had known she would be facing something like this, to watch the people she commanded, people she loved, slowly sink into starvation, helpless to stop it...

 _I can't._

"You are upset," Seven said.

Janeway struggled to find the words to respond to that. "And you aren't?" she asked.

"Captain, according to my calculations, we can survive this level of deprivation," Seven said. "As a drone, I once went four weeks with a regenerator functioning at 23 percent capacity. It will be unpleasant, but we will live."

Janeway roused herself, forced herself to answer. "Well, that is good news. Thank you for that, Seven."

An uncomfortable silence fell and was finally broken by Seven.

"Captain, I must apologize," she said. "I am still uncertain about appropriate human behavior. I was under the impression it was desirable to emphasize the positive when delivering bad news, but I believe I hurt you."

Janeway's expression softened. "No, Seven, you didn't. You did fine. I handled it badly. I suppose I'm having trouble adjusting to our new... way of life. I just keep thinking that if I hadn't ended up in the Delta Quadrant... well, let's just say this isn't exactly the future I imagined for myself." She shook her head. "It's all beside the point now. What's done is done. You can go, Seven."

Seven left. Janeway went to look out the porthole at the layers of gas swirling past in unending patterns. She had never spoken of the future she had imagined for herself with anyone on Voyager but Kes. And Seven... was not like Kes. She wouldn't really understand, not with her limited experience with family life. Janeway could not speak of it to her. But she thought of it.

By now, she had expected that she would be expecting.

That was the plan. Three years in space, commanding Voyager, then a break to have a baby. It was what she and Mark had both wanted, before they grew too old to start a family. Now the time had come and gone. Mark thought her dead. By now he would have grieved for her and moved on. At least she hoped he had.

And now, instead of impending motherhood, she was facing starvation with her crew. What was it someone back on Earth had said? _"The flow of Time is cruel."_ She had thought that a profoundly pessimistic view when she first heard it, but now she saw its truth. Oh, did she ever see it. She was staring it in the face and she was powerless to look away. Shivering involuntarily, she clasped her arms across her chest and held them tightly.

She heard footsteps behind her, and turned to see. It was Seven again, looking somewhat hesitant. Janeway looked at her expectantly, irritated at being interrupted in her brooding.

"If, as you say, you had not come to the Delta Quadrant," Seven said, "I would still be a drone. I have... benefitted from your misfortune."

Janeway smiled a little sadly. "I'm not sorry for that, Seven. I'm glad that something good could come out of all this. As difficult as this last few months have been, it has been... gratifying to see you blossom. You are so attentive to Tuvok's needs. You've been developing friendship with the others, and you've been cooperative and helpful to me. I am proud of you, Seven."

Seven shifted uncomfortably at the praise. "I am pleased you are pleased, Captain," she said at last.

Janeway nodded wearily. "Gather everyone in the Mess Hall. I'll inform them of the situation."

Seven nodded. "Yes, Captain. If I may assist..."

"I'll let you know. Dismissed."

* * *

Janeway prepared for delivering the bad news to the crew as she would for battle. Looking down at her dirty gray tank top, she knew she could not speak to them without even the protection of a uniform between her and them, so she began rummaging through her drawers. She couldn't find a single clean uniform. She'd used them all up, and of course with the replicators broken there was no way to refresh them. After a moment's thought, she knew what to do. She went below-decks and started looking through crew quarters. It was not a comfortable thing to do. Everywhere it was so quiet and still, and she hated to disturb others' things, but everyone was long gone and surely if they knew her need they would not begrudge her the loan of the uniform.

Finally she found one in the proper color and close to the right size. She transferred four pips to the collar and put it on. Good enough.

She began making her way to Deck 2, going over in her mind all the things she had learned in Command School. Be brief and to the point. Make eye contact and project confidence. Be truthful but emphasize the positive. All lessons that had served her well during her years in command. They seemed inadequate now. But she would have to make them do.

By the time she had reached the doors to the Mess Hall, she had her speech word-perfect. Squaring her shoulders, she strode in purposefully.

Everyone was gathered there: Seven sitting by Tuvok, with Torres and Kim and the Doctor standing nearby, and Neelix coming in from the kitchen with a stack of rations. Good. She could get this over with quickly.

"Oh, Captain!" Neelix said. "Just in time. I figured we might as well eat while we meet. It is breakfast time, after all. Boy, it's been a long time since we all gathered in one place! It's kind of nice, don't you think? Just like old times. Sit down, everyone, come on, now. Have a bite to eat. Here, Captain." And he held out a tray for her.

Janeway stared at Neelix blankly, the beginnings of her speech having fled completely out of her mind. She floundered badly for a moment, then finally managed to say, "No, thank you, Mr. Neelix. I'd like to cut straight to the point, if I could."

Everyone was sitting now, looking up at her expectantly.

"Uh, yes?" Neelix said. "What is it, Captain?"

She didn't hesitate, didn't let her voice waver for an instant. "I'd like to say that all of you have done an outstanding job on the repairs. Everyone has done good work and gone above and beyond the call of duty, and I am proud of you all.

"As you all know, it is sometimes the duty of your commander to deliver bad news. As I reviewed the repair estimates each of you gave Seven this morning, it came to my attention that essential repairs are going to take longer than we originally thought."

She paused a moment to let that sink in.

"It'll be okay," Kim said, looking at the others. "We're a little tired, but we'll keep working hard. Maybe it will take a little longer now, but we can do it. Can't we?" Around him, the others nodded.

"Thank you, Mr. Kim," she said. "I appreciate your willingness to work hard. But I am sorry to report that the repairs will take us another six weeks, whereas we now have four weeks of food left."

She knew this was the moment she needed to look them in the eye and let them see she wasn't afraid, but suddenly she felt she could not quite manage it, and she settled for the next best thing: fixating on a point just above the Doctor's head.

"I don't want any of you to worry," she said, pressing on valiantly. "The solution is simple. If we limit ourselves to two meals a day, we can stretch the rations out another two weeks. Seven informs me this is within our capabilities. I know it won't be pleasant, but we'll get through it. Doctor, I'd like you to keep a close eye on everyone from now on and let me know if any-" here she could not prevent a slight hitch in her voice - "if any problems develop. Any questions?"

No one said anything. She made herself look at them, and then immediately wished she hadn't, because they looked frightened, and suddenly it was all she could do not to lose control.

"Very good," she said. "We'll begin today. Carry on." Chin up, she strode out of the Mess Hall.

Janeway headed straight for Section 12, picked up a hyperspanner and knelt in front of the control panel. She tried to focus on the conduit in front of her, but something was very wrong. As tightly as she gripped the tool, her hand would not stop shaking, and it felt as though she could not breathe. She tried to draw in deep breaths, but it only made her feel worse, and soon she was gasping for breath as though oxygen levels in this section had been depleted somehow. Maybe they had. She looked up at the screen above her and thought she better check, but could not seem to find the willpower to stand up again.

The Doctor came around the corner. Without a word he knelt beside her and scanned her with a medical tricorder. Then he set it down, took the hyperspanner out of her hand and began to speak quietly and calmly.

"I want you to listen to me and do everything I say, Captain," he said. "Cup your hands over your nose and mouth and hold them there. Good. Now slow down your breathing. In... and out. In... and out. I know it feels like you aren't getting air, but you're getting too much. Nice and slow. In... and out. That's the way. Try to relax. It's a panic attack, but it will pass. Just breathe your way through it."

It seemed to take an eternity, but finally she felt some semblence of calm return to her. She lowered her hands from her face, sighed deeply, and asked the Doctor, "How did they take it?"

"About as well as you might expect," the Doctor said. "It was a shock and then it passed. They all asked about you, if you were all right. They didn't think you should be alone. They sent me to check on you."

"That was... considerate of them. Do I get to go back to work now?"

"Yes," the Doctor said after a moment's hesitation. "But slow and steady. And don't get so caught up that you forget to eat either meal today. You can't afford to skip anything now."

"I won't. I promise."

"I'll hold you to that."

Janeway managed to smile a little. "I fully expect you to, Doctor."

 **TO BE CONTINUED**

 **Author's note:** This is the first Star Trek fanfic I've written, and I would greatly appreciate any feedback or constructive criticism you have to offer! Thank you.


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4**

When Janeway came in to the Mess Hall the next morning for the first of her day's two meals, she was surprised to find everyone was there already. Harry, B'Elanna, the Doctor, Seven, Neelix, and Tuvok were all seated around several tables pushed together, but when they saw her come in they all stood up to face her.

"What's this?" she asked, surprised.

"Um, Captain?" Harry said. "We've just been talking, and... well, we think maybe you're taking this worse than we are."

Janeway gazed levelly at him for a moment. "It's in my job description, Mr. Kim."

"We're going to be fine. Really," B'Elanna said. "We can handle this. We're strong enough."

"We believe all your decisions have been sound," Tuvok said. "You could not have foreseen or prevented our current difficulties."

"Perhaps if all of us had worked a little more quickly-" the Doctor began, but Janeway cut him off.

"No, no. I know you all did your best," she said. "No one is to blame."

"We've come up with an idea, Captain," Neelix began hesitantly. "We wanted to see what you thought of it."

"All right. Let's hear it."

"What if... what if we all met at the end of the day, every day, to eat dinner together?" Neelix said.

"It's so depressing to eat alone, and we've all been doing it," Torres said. "Since we have to stop working to eat anyway, we think it would be better if we were together."

"If I may add my advice," the Doctor said. "No rushing to get back to work. Eat slowly. It will help you feel more full, and have psychological benefits as well."

"And no talking about work, either," Kim added. "Make it a real break."

"It's a good idea," Janeway said, deeply touched. "In fact, I wish I'd thought of it."

"In a way, you did, Captain!" Neelix exclaimed, a flash of his old exuberance lighting up his yellow eyes. "Why, we can do at these dinners what you've been doing for us these past few weeks. We can take turns talking about, ah, happy things, you know, or finding some other way to contribute to a pleasant dinner atmosphere. Music, perhaps."

"I am still able to play my lute," Tuvok offered.

"Music does have intriguing mathematical properties; the Doctor has offered to teach me to sing," Seven said.

"Her voice would be a lovely accompaniment to mine in my favorite duet from 'La Boheme,'" The Doctor put in, a smug smile spreading across his face.

"Opera music is technically difficult, Doctor," Seven said. "Perhaps it would be wise to choose something simpler."

The Doctor looked a trifle disappointed, but he tried to retain his good humor. "Very well. We could start with some simple folk songs, instead."

* * *

Chakotay began to spend every waking hour in the command center working on his calculations. Annorax may not feel any sense of urgency, but Chakotay did: He knew the crew was running out of food.

Still no breakthrough was forthcoming. Chakotay began to grow desperate. Sometimes he stayed up half the night working doggedly at it. Obrist, overseeing the night shift, began looking at him with concern in his eyes. Chakotay didn't understand it, because Obrist was nothing to him and he was nothing to Obrist, although the man had become friendly with Paris. Finally, one night Obrist left the command center and when he came back, he had Paris with him.

"We need to talk," Paris told Chakotay.

"Not now. I'm in the middle of something."

"If you haven't finished it in the last six weeks, you're not likely to finish it in the next six minutes," Paris said. "Come on. Let's talk."

Rubbing his dry eyes, Chakotay realized a break wasn't a bad idea. Paris led the way back to his quarters, and to Chakotay's surprise Obrist came along. The three of them sat down at the round table, and Paris folded up the game board there and put it aside.

"Does the name Captain Bligh mean anything to you?" Paris asked in a low voice.

As the implication set in, Chakotay looked at Obrist with considerable surprise.

"This is not a happy crew," Paris continued. "Obrist and I have been talking, and he wants to help us. Tell him, Obrist."

Obrist folded his hands on the table in front of him. "I know you want to help your captain and save your ship," he said. "Your goal is laudable, but the reality is that no matter how carefully you calculate, you can never predict exactly what's going to happen when you initiate a temporal incursion."

"I understand that. It's a gamble. But so is everything in life," Chakotay said. "Annorax says he can help us increase the odds in our favor. I think we can get Voyager back to fighting condition, maybe even get her closer to the Alpha Quadrant. We just need a little more time to fine-tune the calculations."

"No!" Obrist said. "Do you not understand? We have been taking the time to fine-tune our calculations for two hundred years. Every time we think we are close to a full restoration, it slips through our fingers. Do not allow Annorax's arrogance to infect you. We are not the masters of Time. Always, it masters us. Did he tell you about Kyana Prime?"

Chakotay shook his head.

"It was one of our colonies, destroyed in the very first temporal incursion Annorax initiated. He erased our enemies, the Zahl, from history, thinking it would bring greatness to our Imperium, and it did... until a plague wiped out Kyana and hundreds of our other colonies. We found out the Zahl had introduced an antibody in our genome that would have protected us. When we destroyed them, we destroyed ourselves." His face was bleak. "Annorax's wife was at Kyana. He started on new calculations. He wanted to bring her back. He wanted to bring all of them back. But after hundreds of incursions, he has never succeeded."

"That doesn't mean he won't succeed this time," Chakotay said.

Obrist shook his head. "You haven't seen, so you don't know. The more he tries to save the woman he loves, the more damage he does. Entire civilizations wiped out, brought back, and wiped out again. We have been at this for nearly three lifetimes. Everyone we knew and loved back home is dead... or never existed." He squeezed his eyes shut. "We are tired. We have more blood on our hands than we ever thought possible. We just want it to stop."

"Obrist, I'm sorry," Paris said. He glanced at Chakotay. "I think we should listen to him, sir. It's a mistake to tinker with Voyager's timeline. For all we know, we might end up making things worse."

"How could things be worse for her?" Chakotay asked fiercely. "The ship was already half-wrecked when we left. Then they went to warp with their structural integrity compromised. She must be nearly in pieces now. I don't know if you've been paying attention to the passage of time out there, but the crew is about to run out of food. Just about any change we initiate is bound to be for the better."

"That's a dangerous assumption to make," Obrist said.

"What do you mean?" Paris asked.

"Because what Annorax isn't telling you," Obrist said, "is that with the pummeling Voyager's taken from so many chronoton torpedoes, parts of your ship are now infused with chronoton radiation. If we subject your ship to a temporal incursion, there is a very real chance that parts of your ship will revert to the condition and position it was in at the last incursion... and parts of it won't."

Chakotay fell into a stunned silence.

"Either way, Annorax gets what he wants," Obrist said. "A restoration of the Imperium to a space-faring civilization. The fate of one small ship is of no consequence to him."

"Then, no matter what incursion he attempts, no matter what he promises us..." Chakotay said.

Obrist nodded soberly. "...Voyager must keep her temporal shields up at all costs."

A long silence descended on the room. Finally, Chakotay spoke up. "You said you wanted this to end, Obrist. I assume you have a plan."

"Yes," Obrist said. "There are others on board who feel as I do. They can help. But I'll need your cooperation, and Voyager's help."

"That's going to be a problem," Chakotay said. "Because we really don't know where she is."

"Then we must wait," Obrist said. "It is a skill for which we have had a great deal of practice."

* * *

 **Day 240**

Panting for breath, Janeway stopped and leaned against a bulkhead to rest for a moment. Her heart pounded as though she had run a marathon, yet she had only traversed half the fore sections of Deck 8, and that at a walk. She shut her eyes and used the back of her hand to wipe the sweat from her forehead, and then took a long drink from her canteen.

When she felt strong enough, she pushed off the bulkhead and resumed her journey. Soon she made it to her destination, a section of the corridor with control panels removed and blinking machinery exposed. Harry Kim wasn't working on it, though, but sitting with his back against the bulkhead and his knees drawn up. His complexion was unusually pale, and his hair fell carelessly down over his forehead.

"You all right?" she asked, crouching down next to him.

He nodded slowly. "Just resting a bit. I started seeing stars."

"Seeing stars? In the middle of a nebula? Very impressive, Harry."

He smiled weakly, and when she offered the canteen he took it gratefully. Janeway sat down next to him with her back against the bulkhead as well, trying to ignore the pain throbbing in her temples with every beat of her heart. "The Doctor's coming with more relays in a bit. Let's just wait until he gets here."

They sat in silence for a while. Janeway watched surreptitiously, and was relieved when she saw Harry was starting to get a bit more color in his cheeks.

"Want to know a secret, Harry?" she asked him.

"Mmmm."

"We captains aren't supposed to reveal which of our crew we chose, and which got foisted on us by Starfleet Command. But you know what? You were one of my hand-picked."

"No kidding." She'd succeeded in making him smile again. "I thought it was a mistake... when I saw my posting. I thought for sure... I'd start out on the lower decks... and have to claw my way up to a Bridge assignment. I couldn't believe... someone thought to put me up there right away."

"Oh, I knew you'd be great. Your academic record alone... but you had some pretty glowing recommendations as well. I was worried Starfleet wouldn't give you to me." She smiled ruefully. "But maybe you'd have been better off working on, say, Deck 24 of the Odyssey after all."

"No way," Harry said. "I mean, if I had, probably I would have been happy... would have advanced and thought... I was doing well and having a good career. But nothing could have ever compared to this. The things that we've seen... things no human has ever seen before... and so much of the Alpha Quadrant has already been explored. We're on a real frontier. It's why we joined Starfleet, isn't it? And the things that I've done... things I never dreamed I was capable of... but when you're thrown out into the water you have to sink or swim, I guess. I found out I could swim. If I had been posted somewhere else... I never would have known what I could become. Sometimes it's been really hard, like now... but a lot of times it's been incredible. I'm not sorry I came."

Janeway patted his hand just as the Doctor came up with his arms full of relays.

"Here we are," the Doctor said briskly. He glanced at the two of them sitting on the deck, set the relays down and pulled out his medical tricorder, kneeling down to scan each of them in turn.

"Do you feel well enough to get up, Mr. Kim?" he asked.

"Umm... What time is it?"

"05:00. One hour to dinner."

Kim nodded. "Yeah. I can make it."

"Captain?" the Doctor asked.

"I'm fine. Let's see if we can get this section done by then."

* * *

An hour later, the three of them went to the Mess Hall for dinner. Neelix, Tuvok and Seven were already waiting there.

What a picture they must make, Janeway thought, everyone sitting at the dinner table all dirty and worn down, with dull eyes and hollow cheeks. Harry almost fell into his chair after the long walk. Only the Doctor looked clean and well, although even he had a permanent frown etched between his eyes as he silently scrutinized each of his patients in turn. Probably wondering which of them would be the first to collapse.

With the six of them there, Neelix roused himself with an effort.

"Where's B'Elanna?" he asked. "It's her turn to go first. I guess she's late. Well, I'll go get my contribution then." He walked into the kitchen, and came back out carrying a little pot of dirt with green tendrils cascading down the sides. "Look at this! I thought I'd see if I could find something in Airponics to brighten our table, but unfortunately everything in there, uh, died. But I happened upon this in Ensign Henley's quarters. It must be a particularly hardy variety. It's a bit limp but I think it's already perked up since I watered it this morning." He set the plant down in the middle of the table.

Just then the door swished open and B'Elanna came in. Everyone looked at her in surprise. She was wearing a patterned blue knee-length dress and her hair was clean and brushed smooth.

"Well?" she asked, spreading open her arms. "Here's my contribution."

"Very nice, lieutenant," the Doctor said, and everyone voiced their agreement.

"I thought everyone might appreciate this more than my usual dirty, sweaty self," B'Elanna said, sitting down.

It was hard not to focus on how sharp her collarbones were above the neckline of the dress, but B'Elanna did look lovely. Neelix brought out a stack of rations and set a tray down in front of each of them with a flourish.

"Dinner is served!" he said.

Each of them removed the film cover from their meal and began to eat. Seven helped Tuvok open his and explained to him where on the tray each item was located. Breakfast seemed like it had been a very long time ago and it was hard to eat slowly, but they made themselves do it.

"Let's see. Whose turn is it next?" Neelix asked. "I think it's yours, Captain. What will it be tonight? A song perhaps?"

Janeway shook her head ruefully. "I'll leave the music to the experts," she said, nodding toward Tuvok, the Doctor and Seven. "No, I have something better than singing tonight. A story to tell. You would not believe what happened this morning."

"What?" Everyone leaned closer and looked interested.

Janeway had spent the whole day fine-tuning this in her head as she worked. She just hoped it entertained them as much as it had her.

She leaned forward and rested her elbows on the table. "I summoned Q."

"You did what?" B'Elanna nearly choked on her glass of water.

"I summoned Q."

"Uh-huh. And just exactly how do you summon a Q?" Harry asked, a knowing smile beginning to spread across his tired face.

"I do not know this individual," Seven said.

Tuvok began, "He is an omnipotent, immortal-"

"Puckish..." Janeway interjected.

"Pompous..." Neelix added.

"...jerk," B'Elanna finished.

"As for how you summon him, it was simple," Janeway said. "Draw some arcane symbols, chant some ancient words, and presto. There was Q."

"Like a genie," Harry said. "Makes sense."

"Sorry, a... genie?" Neelix repeated.

"From an ancient Earth superstition," Janeway explained. "A powerful spirit people would summon to grant their wishes, but they couldn't be controlled and it usually ended badly for the poor hapless mortals."

"So you summoned this Q to grant you a wish," Seven said.

"He did bring the Captain a lot of presents the last time he was here," Harry said. "Filling the Bridge with roses, leaving a puppy in the Ready Room..."

"As I recall, he expected to be given something in return," Tuvok said. "Are you certain it was wise to summon him, Captain?"

"Oh, I knew it was a risk," Janeway said. "But I was in a bad way. I really needed a cup of coffee and I knew he could help out."

That got several laughs. So far, so good.

"So did it work?" the Doctor asked.

Janeway nodded. "He popped right up in a flash of bright light, wearing a captain's uniform, as usual, and said, 'Oh, it's you again. What do you want? Don't tell me you changed your mind, because it's too late.'"

"How presumptuous!" the Doctor exclaimed indignantly.

"I told him, 'No, of course not, but I helped you and the Q Continuum a lot the last time you were here, and I think I deserve a favor in return.' He rolled his eyes and told me he had better things to do, and he started to snap his fingers.

"'Wait!' I said. 'You said you wanted me to babysit little Q from time to time. Well, I'm not going to do it unless you help me now.'

"'As godmother, it's your duty to help,' Q said scathingly, 'and I know your vaunted Federation ideals will ensure you do your duty, no matter what. What is it that you want? No, wait, let me guess. You want me to snap you back to the Alpha Quadrant. Well, forget it! I'm a Q, not a bus terminal.'

"'I'll get this ship back to the Alpha Quadrant without your help,' I told him. 'Right now, all I want is a cup of coffee... and a pair of new warp nacelles.'"

"Perfectly reasonable," Harry said.

"Did you think to ask for new torpedo launchers as well?" Tuvok asked.

"I didn't want to push my luck."

"And did he comply?" Seven asked.

"He got indignant and said such things were beneath a Q. So I started to sweet-talk him, flatter him, tell him what an amazing Q he was, so unique and powerful even compared to the other Q, so smart to think of taking a mate and having a baby when no one else did, and after a while his chest started to puff out and he got this smug little grin on his face. It was all I could do not to punch him in the nose."

"I would have," B'Elanna muttered.

"He told me to go on, and I told him that if he helped us I would gather everyone on the ship to throw him a party in gratitude, and that we would even pretend to be glad to see him if he brought along some hors d'oeuvres."

"Captain, did all this really happen?" Neelix asked, incredulous. Everyone shushed him.

"He said that wasn't much incentive because he was sure we didn't know how to throw a party like the Enterprise crew does. I have to admit, that stung a little."

"I have toured the Enterprise," Tuvok said thoughtfully. "Their lounge on Deck 10 is six times the size of our Mess Hall, and they have a bartender on staff. However, I believe their dislike of Q exceeds even ours. I do not believe they would throw him a party."

"You're probably right. Anyway," Janeway said, "I worked on him for a while longer, and finally he told me the warp nacelles were out of the question because the Continuum was still angry about the last time he'd interfered in human development, but he didn't see what harm a cup of coffee could do. He was just about to snap his fingers when suddenly I heard a voice above us. It was his wife."

"Oh, brother," Harry muttered.

"'Q! I told you to stay away from that little bipedal mortal,' she snapped. 'Now get home this instant. Little Q needs a lullaby and you know what a hard time I have putting him to sleep.'

"Long story short," Janeway sighed, "I got nothing. Q scooted double-quick and I doubt he's coming back."

"Good riddance," B'Elanna said. "There isn't room on this ship for an ego that large."

Janeway smiled a little to herself. Q certainly did talk a big talk, but she sometimes suspected his ego wasn't nearly as large as he pretended it was. She would never forget the look on Q's face when he had asked her if there was another man, followed by his pathetic attempt to display a bigger and better tattoo than Chakotay's. After Q left the ship for good, the two of them had laughed themselves sick about it. Oddly enough, the tattoo incident never made it into the First Officer's log, nor into the Captain's. Some things were just too good to share.

"Well done, Captain," the Doctor said. "How about some music now? Tuvok, Seven?"

Seven put down her fork, got up and carefully lifted Tuvok's lute from its case. Tuvok pushed his chair back from the table and Seven placed the instrument on his knee. He plucked its strings experimentally and then made a few adjustments to the tension. When he was ready, he nodded his head, and the Doctor and Seven stood next to him and cleared their throats.

Tuvok struck several chords in introduction, and then the Doctor and Seven began to sing in harmony:

 _"My Bonnie lies over the ocean,_

 _My Bonnie lies over the sea,_

 _My Bonnie lies over the ocean,_

 _Oh, bring back my Bonnie to me!"_

Once again, Janeway marvelled at Seven's clear voice and bright tone. She never would have guessed that a former Borg drone, of all people, would have a lovely singing voice, but the Doctor was a good teacher and Seven had made noticable progress in the last three weeks. She sometimes sounded out of breath - probably a result of the short rations - and often she failed to put as much emotion into the music as she could have. But her voice was flawless, and the Doctor could put enough feeling into the lyrics for both of them. To hear him sing, you would think he really was longing for a loved one far across the sea.

The singers moved on to the next verse. Janeway had only ever heard the first verse when she learned this song and, interested, she listened closely to the words. Something about laying on a pillow and dreaming that my Bonnie was dead. They began on the next verse, pleading to the winds to blow my Bonnie back to me. To her horror, Janeway suddenly felt tears pricking at her eyes, and she wished that the Doctor had chosen another song, any other song, to sing. This one was hitting a little too close to home. She kept her eyes fixed on the singers and tried desperately to hold it in so that no one would notice.

It didn't work. Either that, or B'Elanna was good enough to guess what was going through her mind, because just then she leaned over and put her arms around Janeway.

"We will," she whispered, soft enough to be for Janeway's ears only. "We will bring them back to us." She sounded tearful too. Janeway could only put her hand up on B'Elanna's arm and give her a grateful squeeze in return.

Later that night, when she had undressed and climbed into bed, she thought about B'Elanna's words, and wondered. Had she been speaking as an officer to her captain, thinking that Janeway was worried about doing her job and getting her crewmembers back? Or had she been speaking woman to woman, guessing what lay between her and Chakotay?

Four years ago she would have been humiliated at the thought of a subordinate knowing something so personal about her. Tonight, some part of her hoped for it. For a moment she had felt as if she was not above the others but _with_ them. She hadn't realized how much she missed that, the feeling of being among equals.

As she drifted off to sleep, memories of her last conversation with Chakotay floated through her mind.

 _"What happens to the crew if I'm not strong enough to carry them anymore?"_

 _"I don't know, Kathryn. Maybe then they'll be strong enough to carry you."_

* * *

 **Day 250**

 _Captain's log, stardate 54728.6_

 _We've finally completed repairs of essential systems. One nacelle is repaired and we will be able to achieve warp 6. Impulse engines are online, the temporal shielding is holding and the power grid is up to 53 percent efficiency. Tuvok and Seven have constructed four torpedoes. We've even restored life support to portions of seven decks now._

 _I've decided to leave the nebula and begin our search for the Krenim timeship. We're still getting inconsistent results in our tests of the torpedo launchers, but we have only three days of food left, and there's no telling how long it will take us to locate the ship. We'll keep working on it as we go._

 _I would like it noted for the record that all those remaining on this ship have served with great distinction and courage in the face of unusual adversity. They've gone above and beyond the call of duty and I couldn't be prouder of them. They are a fine crew and, what's more... they are my friends._

 **TO BE CONTINUED**

* * *

 _ **Author's note:** Thanks to everyone who was kind enough to leave a review! They really help me see whether or not I'm accomplishing what I set out to accomplish. _


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5**

 **Day 253**

Chakotay was awoken in the early hours of the morning by Obrist bending over him, shaking his shoulder. Light streamed in through the open door from the corridor.

"Commander! Wake up. Quickly," Obrist whispered.

"What?" Chakotay mumbled, squinting up at him in befuddlement.

"It's Voyager. She just showed up on our sensors."

Chakotay sat bolt upright, sleep instantly fleeing his eyes. "Voyager? Where? Does Annorax know?"

"About twenty light years from us, and moving in our direction. Annorax is sleeping, but I'll have to notify him soon. We don't have much time. Quickly. I'll take you down to the auxiliary comm station."

Chakotay threw on his clothes while Obrist woke Paris, and the three of them rapidly made their way down to the fifth circle. Two of Obrist's men stood guard outside the room and a third was inside, frowning at his equipment.

"There's a problem, sir," the man said to Obrist. "We're only reading six lifeforms on board."

"Six?" Paris repeated. "No, that has to be a mistake."

They all looked at the sensor readings. The results seemed clear enough: only six lifeforms on board.

"You don't think..." Paris said, and he choked on his words.

"We shouldn't make any assumptions," Chakotay said quickly. "Let's hail them and see." With the help of Obrist's subordinate, he input his command codes and initiated an encrypted transmission to Voyager.

There was no immediate reply. Usually the crew was lightning-fast at responding to hails. Chakotay began to feel sick. Suppose their comm system was down. Suppose something had gone terribly wrong. In her damaged state Voyager could easily have been overpowered by anyone looking to hijack a vessel. There was no way to know who was actually on board.

"Come on, come on," Paris muttered under his breath.

A beep sounded, and Obrist cried out triumphantly. "That's it!" He switched open the audio channel and nodded to Chakotay.

"Chakotay to Voyager. Do you read?"

There was a crackle, and then a familiar voice: "Voyager here. It's good to hear your voice, Chakotay."

"Kathryn!" Chakotay was so relieved he felt weak. "Are you all right? And the ship? And the crew? We're only reading six lifeforms."

"We're making do," she said quietly. "We put most of the crew off the ship. Is Tom with you?"

"I'm here, Captain," Paris put in. "I'm fine, we're both fine."

The Captain's answer wasn't quite as reassuring as Chakotay had hoped for, but he knew they had a lot to discuss in a short time, so he put his worry aside for the moment and pressed on.

"Kathryn, I'm transmitting from the timeship. We're here with the first officer, Obrist. He wants to help us. We can speak in front of him. Do you have your temporal shielding up?"

"Affirmative."

"What about weapons, do you have those?"

"Phaser banks are burnt out. We have four torpedoes."

"Captain, we've got a plan all worked out," Paris said. "We're sending you the coordinates of a system near here with a temporal rift at the edge of it. You need to head that way. We'll meet you there."

"Once you get there, Annorax will hail you," Obrist said. "He's going to ask you to lower your temporal shields so he can begin a temporal incursion."

"You should do as he says," Chakotay said. "It will take a minute for the incursion to begin. Watch for a second signal from Obrist - just a ping. The moment you see it, power the temporal shields back up. It is absolutely critical that you do so, because Voyager is contaminated with chroniton radiation and any incursion could tear her apart. Obrist and his men are going to initiate their own incursion instead of Annorax's."

"Understood. Will the presence of the temporal rift in this system interfere with your incursion?" Janeway asked.

"Negative," Obrist said. "It's the rift I intend to target. It's a naturally occurring phenomenon. Annorax studied it when he was a young man; it's how he came up with his temporal theories. If I erase it from history, I believe the Krenim Imperium will become what it would have been without its temporal technology and everything that happened as a consequence."

"Won't the timeship itself cease to exist in that moment?" Janeway asked.

"No," Obrist said. "We're protected by a tight web of chroniton particles embedded in the hull that keeps us pushed out of phase with spacetime. No incursion will affect us, no matter what it is. The ship will have to be destroyed the conventional way. That's what we need you to do. Once the incursion is complete, target our warp core and destroy us. It's the only way to ensure Annorax won't simply begin calculations for a new incursion and start it all over again."

"How can I get my men back? Our transporters are down."

"We may be able to send Chakotay and Tom with our transporters, if my men can gain control of that section of the ship," Obrist said. "If not, we have a small shuttle onboard we use for external repairs. It isn't much more than a flying crate with impulse engines, but it will do."

"What about you and your men?"

"We have already lived far longer than we should have," Obrist said quietly. "It is our intention that all knowledge of this technology die with us. I trust you will not be so foolish as to begin experimenting with it, Captain."

Janeway's voice was gentle. "Of course not. Once the timeship is gone, we'll have no need for our temporal shielding. We'll destroy it. You have my word."

* * *

Voyager floated above the temporal rift, a slit in space with light blossoming out in hypnotic swirls and eddies. The light from the nearby star washed over the ship's port side, creating bright delineations of light and shadow. The Bridge was quiet. All the necessary preparations had been made. Six hours ago they had eaten the last of the rations. Now everyone sat in their seats, dozing if they could, while they waited for the timeship to arrive.

In the Captain's chair, Janeway watched them all. Harry and B'Elanna, sitting at the Ops and Engineering stations respectively, both had their heads resting on their arms and seemed to be asleep. Tuvok, seated at Tactical, had his eyes closed but his hands clasped in a meditative pose. Neelix was curled up on the deck near him, snoring lightly. Seven of Nine was looking at the console in the Science station, occasionally touching a control. Janeway couldn't be sure but it looked like she was doing some quantum mechanics exercise. The Doctor silently paced back and forth across the upper platform of the Bridge. Janeway looked, too, from time to time, at the unoccupied helm station, and Chakotay's empty seat, and fingered her pocketwatch, lost in thought.

A soft beeping sounded. It was coming from Ops. Harry raised his head, quickly rubbed his eyes and looked at the console.

"Captain," he said. "The timeship has entered the system."

Everyone began to stir. "B'Elanna, head to Engineering," Janeway said. "Seven, I'd like you down by the torpedo launchers, just in case."

The two women stood and headed for the turbolift.

"Tuvok, I want you to monitor our temporal shielding and don't take your attention from it for a moment. Harry, join him at Tactical. You'll do the shooting. Neelix, take Ops." Janeway stepped down and took the helm herself. "I know everyone's tired, but I need you all at your best. It's almost over, and then we can rest."

"They're hailing us," Neelix said.

"Onscreen."

The viewscreen flickered on to reveal Annorax, looking as calm and refined as he had two and a half months before.

"Captain Janeway," he said. "At last. I've been looking for you for a long time. I'm very sorry to see your ship in this condition. Are you willing to discuss terms? I have a proposal which you may find to be of benefit to you and your crew."

"Where are my crewmen that you took?"

"They're here. They've been my guests and I've taken good care of them. See for yourself." Annorax gestured, and Tom and Chakotay appeared on the screen flanking him.

Janeway studied Annorax for a long moment. "What is it that you want?" she said at last.

"It's quite simple, really. I'd like you to lower your temporal shields while I initiate a new temporal incursion. Don't worry, Captain - I won't be erasing you from history. I simply wish to do a targeted erasure of your temporal shield generators. It was your shields that interfered with my last incursion and reverted the Krenim Imperium to a pre-warp civilization. If you comply, my Imperium will be restored and Voyager will return to the condition she was in before you went to warp and lost so much of your hull."

"And then I'll be helpless against your warships' chroniton torpedoes again," Janeway pointed out.

"No. We will personally escort you safely to the edge of Krenim space. That was the condition upon which your first officer insisted when he agreed to cooperate with me."

Janeway narrowed her eyes. "And how do I know for certain that this incursion will help us, not harm us?"

"I helped him make the calculations myself, Captain," Chakotay said. "I think this our best shot. I think we should do it."

She thought for a long moment, then finally wearily nodded her head. "Very well. We will lower our shields. Tuvok, do it."

Annorax looked to the side at a display, and smiled in satisfaction as he saw the readout. "Excellent. Thank you, Captain. I knew you could be reasonable. Please stand by for the incursion. I appreciate your cooperation, and good luck on returning to your home." His image vanished from the viewscreen.

They waited. Then, Neelix spoke up. "I'm getting the second signal now, Captain."

"Tuvok, shields up!"

Their shields went up just as the focusing lens of the time ship lit up with blue energy. But when it fired, it didn't fire on Voyager, but on the temporal rift behind her.

* * *

"No! Obrist!" Annorax's voice rang across the command center. "The rift! Turn the weapon off, quickly! What happened? Did our targeters malfunction?"

"No, sir," Obrist stood and pointed his weapon at Annorax. "It's over. We're going to complete this incursion. The last one."

Around the command center, there was a flurry of activity. Weapons were drawn and crewmembers were dragged from their posts and hustled into the corridor.

"Fool!" Annorax was more bewildered than angry as he was pushed back roughly. "What have you done? The rift! Have you weighed the _consequences_?"

"Don't worry, sir," Obrist said. "I made this calculation very carefully. The incursion to end all incursions. No more madness. No more destruction. Everything back to the way it should be."

Behind him, the viewscreen showed the rift shrinking until it diminished to a speck of light and finally vanished. The blue light of the timeship's weapon faded and flickered out. Annorax groaned in dismay as he was pushed into the corridor and the door sealed against him.

"Trace elements?" Obrist asked.

"Diminishing," an officer reported.

"Counterindications?"

"None so far."

"Scan the continuum and give me the results when you have them."

* * *

"Captain, they're hailing us again," Neelix reported.

This time, it was a different man who appeared on the viewscreen. "Captain Janeway," he said. "I am Obrist. I am pleased to report our incursion was a success. We have been unable to gain access to the transporters, but my men are taking Tom and Chakotay to the shuttle. They will be launching any moment. Once they are at a safe distance, fire at will. Our shields are down."

"I understand. And Obrist... thank you for all you've done."

Obrist smiled sadly. "Good luck on reaching your home, Captain. I hope your crew finds happiness enough to compensate for all that we've wrought."

His image vanished.

"Captain, a shuttle has launched from the timeship," Neelix reported.

"Hail them and tell them to take shelter behind that moon," Janeway said. "There's about to be a warp core breach. Harry, aim for the timeship's nacelles and be ready on my mark." Her hands hovered over the helm controls expectantly.

She watched closely until the shuttle carrying Chakotay and Tom vanished into the shadow of the moon, and then she flared the impulse engines, bringing them up to running speed, heading for the timeship.

"Fire," she said.

Harry tapped his controls, but no pulsing white star emerged from Voyager as she sailed past her target.

"Captain, the launcher jammed," Harry said, his voice tense.

"Try the aft one," Janeway said, bringing them around for another shot. "Ready... fire!"

"It's jammed too!" Harry said in frustration a few moments later.

Janeway hit her combadge. "Janeway to Seven of Nine. What's happening?"

"I'm attempting to adjust the alignment of the torpedo tubes, but they have overheated," Seven said. "Please stand by."

Janeway reached up and stroked the console in front of her. "Come on, sweetheart," she whispered. "Give us a little more. Just a little more. Then you can rest."

"We're being hailed again," Neelix said.

"Voyager, why aren't you firing?" they heard Obrist shout.

"We're experiencing a malfunction," Janeway said. "We're trying to get weapons back online-"

"You have to hurry!" Obrist shouted. They could hear yells and bangs in the background of the connection. "Annorax's men are trying to break back into the command center. I don't know how long we can hold them off."

"Seven?" Janeway said.

"Captain, the compressors have warped in the heat," Seven reported over the com. "We cannot launch torpedoes without going inside the bay to level out the distortions first. It will take time."

"We don't have time. Can we release the torpedoes without compressors, and deploy them like mines?"

"I believe so," Seven said.

"Captain, we will have to move within 5,000 meters of the timeship to do so," Tuvok said. "It will be difficult to escape the warp breach."

"We'll just have to do it at full speed, and hope we can duck behind that moon," Janeway said grimly. "Ready, Harry?"

"Torpedoes are armed. Ready to open launch doors."

"Let's do it."

* * *

Onboard the Krenim shuttle, hidden by the curve of the moon, Paris and Chakotay watched the sensor display of Voyager approaching the timeship for a third pass.

"Come on, Voyager," Chakotay muttered. "Why aren't they firing?"

"Why are they coming in so close?" Paris said.

"Maybe they're..."

Both men leaned forward in alarm. Voyager was coming in hot, skimming dangerously close to the timeship as she rushed past it toward the moon at full impulse. Behind her, four torpedo pods launched, not with unerring speed and accuracy, but tumbling out in slow motion. One of them drifted past the timeship and kept on tumbling out into empty space. Chakotay and Paris looked at it in dismay.

The other three torpedoes smashed into the spokes of the timeship's warp nacelles. At the same instant, the two men saw Voyager's nose emerge from behind the curve of the moon in front of them, banking to port to come around toward them. Abruptly their sensor display went black, and a blindingly white light flashed out from the direction of the timeship.

Everything went to chaos. Suddenly rubble from the moon was flying past them at high speed, and Tom was fighting for control of the shuttle as a massive shockwave vibrated past them. There was a tense moment where they thought the warp core breach was going to swallow them whole.

But the moon had sheltered them from the explosion. Gradually the white fire dissapated and the trembling of the shuttle stilled, and in the silence that fell, all they could see through the viewscreen were meteoroids and glittering scraps of metal fanning out to starboard... and Voyager.

She was spinning lifeless in space in the midst of the meteoroids, rolling over and over, with her impulse engines dark and plasma venting from the starboard nacelle. Chakotay stared in horror, but no cry came to his lips. It seemed impossibly unreal, as though he were in a dream he knew wasn't real and yet he couldn't wake up. He had seen other ships tumbling dead in space, but never before had it entered his imagination that he might see Voyager this way. She seemed no more significant or substantial than a child's toy, tossed into the air and caught up by a gust of wind and carried away from him.

For the ship was drifting further away from them every moment. Paris, for once in his life silent, leaned forward and pressed the controls to bring the shuttle's engines to life and follow Voyager's path. But he couldn't get close because of all the debris surrounding her.

As numb as he felt, Chakotay made himself move, made himself open a channel to Voyager.

"Chakotay to Voyager! Chakotay to anyone, please respond!"

There was no answer.

Paris shook his head. "As close as she was to the blast, inertial dampeners must have gone offline. Everyone's probably pinned to the ceiling. They're not going to be able to reach the consoles to get her under control."

"I can't believe she's still in one piece," Chakotay said weakly.

"She mostly made it behind the moon. I think that shockwave just clipped her underside as she banked. Your ancestors must have been looking out for us all." For once, Paris didn't make it sound sarcastic.

Chakotay tried to get a good look at Voyager's aft section. For all the damage Voyager's exterior had taken, the shuttlebay doors were intact and sealed shut. They wouldn't get in that way. "Is there any chance you can mate this shuttle with Voyager, up at the airlock on Deck 1?"

"That's going to be pretty tricky at the speed she's spinning, not to mention all that debris in the way. Our shields are as thin as paper."

A voice suddenly broke into their conversation. "Hello? This is the Doctor. Can anyone hear me?"

Chakotay felt a powerful rush of relief. "Doctor, where are you?"

"I'm on the Bridge. Sorry about the delay, I've never been taught how to use the controls up here, which in retrospect seems to me a massive oversight on the part of the senior officers."

Chakotay brushed that aside irritably. "Doctor, report! What's the status of the crew?"

"Unconscious from the g-forces. Inertial dampeners and artificial gravity are down. Can somebody please tell me how to stop this abominable spinning so I can get to my patients?"

Paris leaned forward. "Get to the helm and I'll walk you through it." Patiently he led the Doctor step by step though the process of activating maneuvering thrusters. Soon they could see the flare of the jets on Voyager's starboard underside, and gradually the spinning eased up until at last she stabilized and Paris and Chakotay breathed a big sigh of relief.

With a few more nudges of the thrusters Voyager was coaxed out of the path of the debris, and they told the Doctor how to open the shuttlebay doors for them and how to restore artificial gravity very gradually over the course of several minutes, so that everyone and everything in freefall would not plummet to the deck all at once.

Paris docked the shuttle, powered down the engines and together he and Chakotay emerged into Voyager's shuttlebay. The shuttlebay had never looked less welcoming; the lights were dim and flickering and the deck was strewn with stacks of burnt-out relays and heaps of scrap metal, but Chakotay was so relieved to be on board again that it was all he could do not to fall on the deck and kiss it like the sailors of old when at last they made landfall.

They were home.

 **TO BE CONTINUED**

 _ **Author's note:** Still three chapters to come! And believe it or not, I have already completed 95 percent of a sequel to this story, an AU version of the Equinox episodes which will have a more prominent J/C angle than this story. Please leave a review and let me know what you think!_


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter 6**

 **Day 254**

Janeway woke up to find herself lying on a biobed in the Mess Hall. The room was darkened and quiet. She turned her head and saw it was empty except for Chakotay, sitting in a chair near her bed with his head resting against the bulkhead and his eyes closed.

Janeway slowly sat up and took a good long look at him. After so many weeks of living with her too-thin senior staff, it was a shock to see someone healthy. He was dressed in a tailored brown tunic and crisp pants, and everything about him was neat and clean, from the tips of his black hair down to his glossy shoes. She looked down at her dirty tank top and then slowly put up a hand to touch her hair. It felt every bit as unkempt as she had feared, and probably looked worse. She combed her fingers through her hair in an attempt to smooth it down, but it was futile. She contented herself with looking at Chakotay instead: the way the light from the windows touched every plane and angle of his face, the familiar lines of his tattoo, that little dent in his chin. It was ridiculous how pleased she was to see him again.

Almost as if he sensed her looking at him, he stirred and opened his eyes.

"Well, aren't you a sight for sore eyes," she said.

"You're awake," he said, sitting up straight and stretching out his muscles. "How do you feel?"

She considered. She felt as weak and hungry as before, and she had a raging headache as usual, but all in all she felt better than she expected, given that the last image in her memory consisted of a warp core explosion going off too close to the ship. She was surprised to have woken up at all, after the violence of the blast that had sent them all flying across the Bridge, and even more surprised to see that the Mess Hall, at least, did not look any the worse for the wear.

"I'm fine. How is the crew?" she asked.

"They're fine. Tom too. I sent them all to sleep. The Doctor's watching over the Bridge."

She was afraid to ask, but she had to. "How's Voyager?"

"You got her mostly behind the moon before the warp core went. The blast shook her pretty badly but she's still in one piece. Warp drive is down again, but we do have impulse engines. It could have been a lot worse. You did great."

"It was a team effort," she said.

Janeway slid off the biobed and padded over to the window in her bare feet. Most of the view was taken up by the curve of a green and brown planet, with a layer of wispy white clouds floating serenely over all. Chakotay came to stand beside her and share the view.

"Where are we?" she asked.

"Not far from where we were. Look to starboard. See that glittering down in the corner of the window? That's the debris from the timeship."

Janeway stared at it for a long moment. "What happened with the incursion?" she asked.

"Obrist accomplished what he meant to. In this timeline the Krenim never developed temporal technology. They're thriving as a race, but their territory has shrunk. We're no longer in their space. In fact, this part of space is pretty sparsely populated. There's no sign of ships or colonies of any sort within 40 lightyears of us. We should be able to make our repairs in peace."

"Well, that is good news," Janeway said.

"If you like good news, I have more," Chakotay said. He walked over to a stack of storage crates against the bulkhead and dug around in the top one. "Here we are," he said, handing her something. "We're not sure what it's called, but it smells like chicken vindaloo."

"Where did you get this?" she breathed, looking at the rations in amazement.

"Obrist was thoughtful enough to stock up our shuttle. We have enough food to last everyone here at least a month. And the planet we're orbiting is M-class. We can start scavenging when we need to."

She couldn't believe it. After so many months of deprivation it did not seem right that they should suddenly have so much.

"Did everyone else eat?" she asked.

"Yes, of course."

She sat down at a table, opened the rations and tucked in. It was hard not to wolf it down, but she forced herself not to. While she ate, Chakotay sat beside her and told her everything that had happened on the timeship while he and Tom were there, of Annorax and his doomed mission, and Obrist's friendship and assistance. By the time he was done, she had finished the meal and the dull ache behind her eyes had began to ease up.

Chakotay looked her over and smiled. "The Doctor said you took pretty good care of yourself most of the time I was gone," he said. "You could have knocked me over with a feather when he said that. I thought for sure you would push yourself too hard."

"Oh, I couldn't do that," Janeway said. "I didn't want you to come back and shout at me again."

"I'm just waiting for you to do some shouting of your own," Chakotay said, gesturing to the pocketwatch she wore at her waist. "You did order me to recycle that."

"You ought to be flogged for disobeying orders," she agreed. "I hereby sentence you to twenty lashes with a wet string. If I can find a string."

"There must be one somewhere around here. We better not start looking now and disturb everyone who's sleeping, though." Chakotay's smile faded and suddenly he looked serious.

"What?" she asked.

"If I had known what kind of shape all of you were in," he said, "I would have been a lot angrier at Annorax than I was."

Janeway put her hand on his shoulder. "Don't waste your energy on hating the dead," she said. "From what you've told me, he was trying, in his own way, to get his crew home. He just didn't know when to stop and listen to his first officer."

* * *

 **Day 255**

 _Captain's log, stardate 54732.5_

 _After a visit to the surface of the planet Voyager is orbiting, we've decided to set up a permanent camp down there and gather seeds to plant. We know we'll be here long-term making repairs, and having a base means we won't have to travel far and wide looking for edibles._

 _Now that we've ensured a reliable supply of food, I've ordered the recall signal to be transmitted to the subspace beacons of our escape pod fleets. I hope to hear from them soon, although I know there are many things that could have happened to them in the last three months. All we can do is hope for their safe return._

 _We've brought the power grid up to 65 percent efficiency, and life support is restored everywhere but the damaged outer sections and, of course, Deck 5. But without replicators, making all other repairs will be slow going. We've made no attempt to estimate how long we may be here, lest we disappoint ourselves with every inevitable delay. We'll just have to take it one day at a time._

* * *

 **Day 265**

 _Captain's log, stardate 54749.1_

 _One of our three escape pod fleets entered sensor range today, and we were able to make contact with them. It seems they made it to a Zahl mining facility before running out of supplies. They procured employment there and have been working to save funds to buy passage onto ships, but when they received the word that Voyager was ready for them, they bought supplies and headed in our direction instead. We are all very much looking forward to the reunion. Not only has everyone missed their friends, but with 52 people on board rather than nine, repairs will go faster. The crew is excited about taking turns spending several days at a time in the sunshine and fresh air caring for our garden on the surface. We could all use a break from looking at machinery._

 _No word yet from the other two fleets. I worry about them daily, but until we have warp drive again there's nothing else we can do. And on that front, the news is discouraging. We already knew the port nacelle was irrecoverable, but now it appears the starboard nacelle has multiple fractures exceeding 40 microns. By filling the cracks with liquid tritanium we may eventually be able to create a warp bubble, but chances are good that any time we are at warp the bubble may fail without warning. What we need is a complete rehaul, but given there are no Federation starbases within 60,000 light years, and we don't have any resources valuable enough to trade another race for such extensive repairs, we'll have to make do with what we have._

* * *

 **Day 324**

Janeway pressed the chime on Chakotay's door, and a few moments later the door swished open and the soft sound of violins could be heard playing in the background.

"Come in!" she heard him call from inside, and when she stepped through the door she saw he was working at his desk. He looked up and smiled when he saw who it was.

"You're back!" he said, rising to greet her. "And how is our little colony doing?"

"Splendid. Look what I brought back with me. I thought it might brighten up your quarters."

He accepted the bunch of greenery with thanks and dug out a container for it. "Very nice," he said, setting it on an end table.

"I found some that were much prettier, but the Doctor seemed to think they were responsible for all the mysterious rashes everyone below has been sporting, so I thought better of it."

"Very considerate of you. Did Tuvok get settled in all right?"

"Yes, when I left Seven was helping him learn how to harvest the root crop. He was able to do pretty well, working by touch."

"Have a seat." Chakotay had by now cleared away the broken furniture in his quarters, and borrowed some in better condition from one of the abandoned living spaces belowdecks. Janeway settled back into the cushions.

"Wait until you see the camp, Chakotay. It looks quite different from the last time you went down. They've dug up a lot more ground and now it's more like a farm than a garden, and they've put up four more modular shelters. And- oh, Chakotay..." she choked back a laugh - "They've put them up with the beige panels on the outside and the gray inside."

Chakotay laughed. "Don't tell me. We were all out of polka dots."

"And pinstripes, too."

They sat down on the couch together. "Jellid tea?" Chakkotay asked.

"Yes, please." It wasn't coffee, that was for certain, but Neelix had discovered that a certain leafy plant on the surface made a passable tea when prepared just right, and since it had caffeine, it had become the go-to beverage for Janeway and many of the crew. Chakotay handed her a cup, and she took a grateful sip.

"And," Janeway continued, "apparently Tom has christened the colony 'Plymouth Rock,' because he's put up a sign to that effect right where the shuttle's been landing, and now everyone's calling it that."

"Terrific. Have they found any wild turkeys yet?" Chakotay joked.

"I'm afraid not. But the fishing has been a smashing success. And those tomato-y things are getting so prolific that we won't be able to eat them all before they go bad. Neelix is figuring out how to preserve them right now."

"Tell him to make salsa."

"I'll be sure to mention it. I suggested spaghetti sauce. There's nothing better than home-canned spaghetti sauce."

"So you had a good vacation then?"

"Vacation?" Janeway scoffed. "I spent most of my time there pulling weeds and dusting off solar panels. Some vacation."

"You got a bit of a suntan."

"That's true."

"And you got to play ball with Naomi Wildman."

Janeway looked askance at Chakotay. "How did you know that?"

Chakotay grinned and swiveled his computer screen toward her. "The Doctor already downloaded the photos from his holo-cam. He got some really nice shots of you two."

Janeway scrolled down and began to look through the Doctor's handiwork, unsure whether to be pleased or annoyed. He was really getting quite good at this new hobby and the photos were striking: O'Donnell planting seeds with the sun beating down on his shoulders, a group sitting around a pile of phaser-heated rocks eating their dinner, Porter hanging uniforms over tree branches to dry, and yes, there were the photos of herself playing with Naomi. They were nicely framed and the ones where Naomi's face was front-and-center were cute, anyway. "I thought I'd managed to stay out of his sights," Janeway said. "I'm not exactly at my most photogenic." She touched the burn scar on her cheek ruefully.

"It's really not all that noticeable," Chakotay said.

She looked through the photos for a few more minutes, while they listened to the music Chakotay had put on in the background. The piano had suddenly broken out into a sweet, thoughtful melody that caught her attention.

"This song is nice," Janeway said absent-mindedly. "What is it?"

"Rhapsody on a Theme of Paganini, by Rachmaninov."

"It's nice."

"It's 20 minutes of mindless meandering, followed by the greatest three minutes of music in the history of the Romantic era. We just got to the good part."

"I see." Janeway chuckled. The violins now swirled up and joined the piano in a sweeping refrain. "Why don't you just skip ahead to the good part?"

"I don't think I would appreciate it as much without everything that came before."

"Very wise."

Chakotay studied her for a moment. "So are you all right with this?"

"With what?"

"With the colony. With us... settling down, almost, on the surface. Making a home. You've always hated it whenever I've suggested anything of the sort."

Janeway nodded slowly. "I know. I just didn't want us to get too comfortable here in the Delta Quadrant, if you know what I mean. I didn't want us to forget our goal of going home."

"And now?"

"I haven't forgotten anything. There's just not much I can do about it at the moment. I suppose if we have to make this a home away from home while we get Voyager back on her feet, I might as well let the crew make things as pleasant as possible for themselves in the meantime."

She scrolled to the next photo, and smiled at the sight of four crewman lazily swimming in the river after a long day's work.

"Do you know," she continued, "I worried the crew might hate this stopover, that they might feel it was... beneath a Starfleet officer, to be spending their days in the dirt like this, growing food instead of exploring the stars, but you were right to call it a vacation. Everyone seems happier after they've done a stint in the colony."

"Including the captain." Chakotay grinned.

"That's your polite way of saying I'm less cranky, isn't it?"

"Your words, not mine."

They both jumped as the red alert blared out of the speaker, and then shot each other puzzled looks. They had not seen hide nor hair of a ship since destroying the timeship, and with so much work to concentrate on in Engineering and in the colony, they had almost forgotten they were still in space, with everything that came with it.

"Someone bumped the button," Chakotay said almost hopefully.

"They better not have," Janeway said, hitting her combadge. "Janeway to Bridge, report."

"Captain, a ship just dropped out of warp at the edge of the system," Kim said. "They've powered up weapons."

"Krenim?"

"No ma'am, it's a design we haven't seen before."

"Shields up. I'm on my way."

 **TO BE CONTINUED**


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter 7**

When Janeway and Chakotay got to the Bridge, they found commotion. Not the orderly commotion of a well-rehearsed call to battle stations, but obvious confusion regarding who was supposed to take which station. Janeway was not happy to see it. Bad enough that they were operating with only a third of the crew, minus the dozen or so who were down at the colony at any given moment, but apparently she'd let discipline slip to an appalling level. Granted most of the people up here were unaccustomed to Bridge duty, but still. At least Kim seemed to have it together; with a series of quick orders he managed to get stations manned, and then turned and saw Janeway coming down the steps.

"They're in range, Captain," he reported.

"Let's take a look."

The snub-nosed ship that appeared on the viewscreen was a little larger than Voyager, and in better condition, although it had scorch marks slashing across its bow, testament to a recent battle. It was impossible not to notice the torpedo launchers prominent on its upper level.

"Shall I hail them?" Kim asked from where he had resumed his usual place at Ops.

"Let's wait and see what they do," Chakotay said. "One look at us, and they ought to see we're not much of a threat."

Janeway and Chakotay took their seats on the center dias to wait. At least the Bridge had been cleared of debris by now and there was full power to every station. Thank heaven for small favors.

"They're hailing us," Kim said at last.

"Onscreen."

The image of an alien flickered onto the screen, a petite furred humanoid, vaguely feline in features. Her expression was severe.

"This is Ky Dajada of the Garenor," she said. "Explain who you are and why you've been playing around with timespace in this system."

"I'm Captain Kathryn Janeway of the Federation starship Voyager. I assure you, we have not been experimenting with timespace, here or anywhere else-"

"Then explain," Dajada said furiously, "why the debris at the edge of this system is infected with extreme levels of chronoton radiation, the same radiation we detect emanating from your ship."

"Our ship was contaminated by weapons the Krenim used against us," Janeway said.

Dajada's eyetufts went up. "The Krenim? Unlikely. They do not possess temporal technology."

"Not anymore," Janeway said. "But they did. That debris field you saw is what's left of experiments they were carrying out in a different timeline, one that has now been replaced by our own."

Dajara looked incredulous, not that Janeway could blame her. Finally, she said, "Explain your presence here. The Garenorians claim this space. We have never heard of your Federation."

Patiently, Janeway explained. "We are scientists and explorers. We were simply passing through when the Krenim attacked us without provocation. We defended ourselves, and destroyed the timeship that was altering history. That's the debris field you passed. We're just here trying to make repairs to our ship so we can be on our way."

Dajada looked at Janeway for a long moment, then said only, "Don't go anywhere." Her image disappeared.

"As if we could," Paris said.

They waited. A few minutes later, Kim reported: "They're launching a shuttle."

The Garenorian shuttle flew back to the edge of the system, toward the debris field. It was gone for half an hour. When it returned, it docked inside its mothership, but the comm silence continued. Janeway paced the Bridge and tried not to worry. True, they had no weapons and no way to run, but they'd talked their way out of conflicts before, and they'd done nothing to provoke an attack here. If only she could be sure the Garenorians would see it that way.

At last, Dajara hailed them again.

"We've analyzed the debris at the edge of the system," she said. "I was skeptical, Captain Janeway, but it seems you are right: the ship was certainly of Krenim make, although I have never seen a hull integrated with chroniton particles in that manner before. What were they attempting to do with this technology?"

"They were erasing species from existence," Chakotay said, "trying to bring more glory and power to their Imperium."

Dajara nodded. "This, I can believe. My people have had much war with the Krenim. They are never satisfied with the territory they have. Always, they want more. Once, our fleet exceeded 400 ships in this sector. Now, we have almost half that. We came out the victors, thank the stars, but at great cost. Still, they make trouble from time to time. If you have robbed them of a weapon, you have our thanks. We do not object if you wish to stay here to make your repairs."

"Thank you," Janeway said. "We are grateful for your understanding."

Dajara nodded. "Very well. I will inform the rest of my fleet you are to be left alone." She seemed on the point of signing out, but then she hesitated. "Captain Janeway..." she said slowly. "Given our recent difficulties, we... do not have much. But if there is something we can do to assist you... perhaps some supplies we could provide? What is it you are most in need of?"

Overwhelmed by such a question, Janeway could only lift her arms wordlessly. "I... wouldn't know where to begin," she said at last. "We could use just about anything you are willing to give."

"Perhaps if we could board your ship and survey the damage ourselves, we would be able to see where we are most able to help."

"That would be very kind. We would be happy to welcome you."

Dajara signed out. Chakotay stood and moved closer to the viewscreen, looking at the scorch marks on the Garenorian vessel thoughtfully.

"No wonder this part of space is so empty," he said. "They must keep most of their ships on the Krenim border."

"No wonder they were so skittish," Janeway said. "Nearly half their fleet gone... I can't imagine."

* * *

Janeway took Dajara and three of her crew to every deck of Voyager to survey the damage. Once, giving tours of the ship had been a source of pride for her, but this time, it was almost an embarrassment, letting her be seen in this state. The crew by now were used to seeing their home in shambles, but it was something else to watch Dajara's eyes widen in dismay with each new glimpse of Voyager's damaged systems. The Garenorian captain didn't say much during the tour, but at the end of it, when Janeway brought her into the Ready Room and offered her a cup of jellid tea, she didn't hold back.

"Captain Janeway," she said delicately, twitching her whiskers after a sip of tea, "I know this is something no captain wants to hear, but... have you considered the possibility that your ship may not be salvageable? You need to entirely refit both nacelles. More than a third of the exterior panels will need to be replaced before the outer sections will be habitable. These two projects alone will take a great deal of time and resources to accomplish, and that's before you address such difficulties as the replicator system and the interior damage. Would it not be better to contact your Federation, ask for assistance in cannibalizing the ship for parts, and start over fresh?"

"The problem with that," Janeway said wearily, "is that the Federation is 60,000 light years away. They don't know we're here, and they couldn't help us if they did."

Dajara looked stunned. "Sixty _thousand_...?"

"It's a very long story."

"It must be a fascinating one." Dajara tilted her head in an expression of curiosity. "I would be most interested to read your ship's logs, if you are willing."

"I would be happy to send them over to your ship. We certainly have had our share of adventures."

The Garenorian captain rose and said, "I will return to my ship now. We will look at our inventory and see what we can do to help. Thank you for your hospitality, Captain."

"No, thank you," Janeway said. "After being under attack for so long, we had almost forgotten what it was like to see a friendly face."

Dajara studied her for a moment, and then reached out with her furred hand and stroked Janeway's hair, just behind her ear. Then she looked at Janeway expectantly, and after a moment's consideration she reciprocated the gesture, stroking Dajara's fur just behind the ear, hoping this was some sort of a social cue, like a handshake. She must have done it right, because Dajara nodded seriously and then turned to go.

"I will contact you shortly," she said.

* * *

True to her word, in short order Dajara began sending over equipment, and with it teams of her own engineers to help adapt the Garenorian components to Voyager's specifications and install them. What Janeway thought might be a simple gift of items turned into a days-long cooperative effort to get the power grid up to full efficiency. The Garenor brought over so many meters of power relays that Janeway began to suspect they were not merely giving what they had in storage, but actually replicating them. She wondered what they were sacrificing of their own energy needs, if they perhaps had gone to emergency rations themselves to make this possible.

Three days later, she was on the Bridge when Paris told her in some surprise: "Captain, another Garenorian ship just entered the system."

The new ship pulled into orbit near them; it was so large that it dwarfed Dajara's ship and Voyager both. Soon Dajara herself contacted Janeway and asked if she could bring the captain of this new ship aboard to meet her. In short order Janeway was welcoming both captains into her Ready Room and offering them cups of tea.

"Captain Janeway, this is Captain Nimmin," Dajara said as the three of them sat down. "He's brought some good news with him."

"Captain Dajara indicated that you had lost contact with many of your crew," Nimmin said. The rings of darker fur around his eyes gave him an almost racoon-like appearance. "Garenor Central spread the word to all our installations and our allies, and I am pleased to report that we have located your missing people."

Startled, Janeway set her teacup down on the table. "You've found them? Where? Are they well?"

Nimmin smiled. "Tolerably so. Apparently they were taken to a Ram Izad refugee camp." He handed her a PADD. "This is from the camp's registry. There are 89 of your people there."

Eagerly Janeway scrolled through the images on the PADD. There was Murphy, and Ayala, and Harren, and Swift, and many more. All of them were dressed in plain gray jumpsuits and faced the camera unsmilingly, but they did look clean and healthy. As uncomfortable as it made her to think of her own people as refugees relying on the kindness of others, their fate was so much better than the other things she had imagined for them that emotion welled up and closed her throat.

"They were on a waiting list for a work-for-fare program," Nimmin continued, "but if you are ready to take them back, we can arrange for them to be transported here, or perhaps you would prefer to pick them up on your way out of this sector."

"Oh, I don't think we'll be leaving this system anytime soon, unfortunately," Janeway said.

"That brings us to the other piece of good news," Dajara said, shooting Nimmin a mysterious look as a smile spread across her face and revealed her pointed teeth. "Captain, Nimmin has brought his ship here to tow yours to our shipyard. We've received authorization from our superiors to make repairs to your ship there. I've sent them specifications for your nacelles and they've already begun to adapt our technology for what you need. They're gathering up tritanium to patch up your hull, too."

Stunned, Janeway let the PADD slip from her fingers and fall into her lap. "You... couldn't possibly," she said.

Dajara bounced up and down a bit in her seat. "We can, and we will," she said delightedly. "We're quite determined on that point, Captain."

"But you said..." Janeway said weakly. "You said your fleet was decimated... you can't possibly afford that level of resources, not for strangers such as us..."

"We can't afford not to," Nimmin said seriously.

"Did you know, Captain," Dajara said, growing serious as well. "Did you know that you passed quite near to Garenor as you traveled through this sector?"

"I don't think so," Janeway said blankly. "I would have remembered an inhabited planet."

"But you did," Dajara said. "I've read through your logs and looked at the star charts you attached. You went right past our system, and your sensors got a good look at it. When we saw what your data indicated, it frightened the wits out of us all."

"Why?"

"Because your sensors picked up nothing at all," Nimmin said.

"No ships, no warp trails, no satellites," Dajara said. "No energy signatures. No structures on the planet. Nothing but vegetation."

Janeway shook her head. "But how can that-" Then realization dawned. "The Krenim. The timeship-"

Dajara nodded. "Yes. It was clear to us. The Krenim must have targeted our homeworld. We were erased from history. Everything, all our lives, all our thousands of years of history, everything we ever were or could have been, gone in the blink of an eye."

Janeway slowly breathed out, a hollow feeling blossoming somewhere in her midsection. It was one thing to know, intellectually, the immorality of what the Krenim had done. But to see it up close and real, with the victims standing before her, was something else.

"But you're here now," she said slowly.

"It seems that when your men assisted the mutiny on that timeship and initiated its final temporal incursion," Nimmin said, "they brought us back."

"And when you destroyed their ship, you ensured they could not erase us again," Dajara said. "To be plain, we owe our existence to you and your crew. So you see, you must not make a fuss if we wish to repair your ship for you. It is very poor thanks for what you have done for us, but it is all we can do."

Tears sprang to Janeway's eyes, and she put her hand over her mouth. "I don't know what to say," she whispered at last. "There were days when I thought... maybe we wouldn't ever leave this system."

On either side of her, the Garenorian captains each put a furry hand on her head and slowly stroked her hair.

"How surprised you are," Dajara said wonderingly. "But I have read your logs, and so often you have shown kindness to others. Is it so strange to think someone would help you?"

"I didn't look for it," Janeway whispered. "I thought we were alone."

 **TO BE CONTINUED**

 _ **A/N:** I welcome feedback!_


	8. Chapter 8

_**Author's note:** A great big thank you to pronker, Ibagoalie, mabb5, Doc Yewll, Rice Pips, Schengen, quirkette, amorymusica, cred, TimetravelingArchaeologist, Juddysbuddy, Mary S, OPYKJ, SusanC, scwusa, Julie-Anne121, Cozy, speedy77, Noelle, Ginford and several "guests" for taking the time to leave reviews. It is so helpful to me to see what readers are getting out of my stories._

* * *

 **Chapter 8**

 **Day 353**

 _Captain's log, stardate 54943.3_

 _Now that Voyager has been fitted with new nacelles and work on the outer hull has been completed, the Garenorians have asked us to move her from her berth at their shipyards and land her on their homeworld while they clean and repair the interior. They've made arrangements for a welcoming ceremony and a number of cultural events for us to enjoy while the work progresses. The attention we're being given is almost embarrassing, but the crew is ready for shore leave and I intend to let them enjoy every minute of it. They've more than earned it after the year we've had._

* * *

 **Day 355**

Kathryn Janeway leaned over to look through the windows of the Garenor medshuttle that had arrived to take her back to Voyager. It took off with a muted roar, gliding low over skyscrapers that glittered in the mid-day sun. A steady breeze blew the swaying branches of the city's trees to the east, and down below she could see Garenorians of every size and color walking the streets and enjoying the warm weather.

It was a beautiful city. In some ways it reminded her of Bangkok, back on Earth, where she had once gone on a school trip. The thought made her simultaneously happy and homesick, and she permitted the bittersweetness to wash over her. She may yet see Bangkok again one day, but if not, she would have as compensation the memories of this place, and the many kindnesses that had been shown to them here.

As she watched the scenery flash by, Janeway raised her hand and slowly stroked the smoothness of her cheek. It felt so strange to be free of the burn scars. She had never thought of herself as a particularly vain person, but it was such a relief to have her old self back. She had not realized how much the scars had bothered her until she had looked in the mirror for the first time after the surgeons had completed their treatments. Now she was as good as new.

The shuttle coasted over the expanse of the medcenter, finally settling down on the roof of a different building. A short distance away, a pair of medical assistants stood on the roof with Tuvok and the Doctor, waiting for the heat of the engines to dissipate before they moved forward to lower the docking ramp for them.

Janeway stood to greet them and from long habit, she put out her hand to help lead Tuvok to his seat, but the moment she got a good look at her old friend's face, she quickly pulled her hand back.

Tuvok didn't need her help. Tuvok could see. He looked at Janeway with dark eyes once more alert and focused, lifted an eyebrow, and said merely, "Captain. It is good to see you again."

"Oh, Tuvok! I can't tell you how good it is to be _seen_ by you again." And though she knew Vulcans did not like physical contact, she could not resist moving forward and giving Tuvok a quick squeeze. To her surprise, he ever so briefly returned the gesture before releasing her and taking his seat in the shuttle.

"Excellent work, Doctor," Janeway said, and the EMH looked particularly pleased with himself as he settled into his seat.

"I did do a remarkable job, didn't I?" he said. "Of course, the Garenorian specialists provided invaluable assistance as well. They even taught _me_ a few things."

They made one more stop at the medcenter, picking up Ensigns Brooks and Ashmore, now fully healed from their injuries as well. All those with more minor ailments would be treated by the Doctor in Sickbay; new medical equipment was being installed on Deck 5 beginning tomorrow, now that the Doctor was back to supervise the process.

After a short flight over the city, they came within sight of Garenor Flight Central on the outskirts, its many buildings spreading out over several miles, the complex softened and beautified with careful landscaping. And there, parked on the broad green expanse in its center, was Voyager.

Eagerly, the five of them pressed up against the windows of the shuttle to see. Janeway had been looking forward to this the whole time she'd been at the medcenter. She hadn't been able to get a proper look at Voyager while the ship was encased by docking clamps at the shipyards, and it had been dark when they landed on the surface two days before and the Garenorians had whisked her and the other patients away to the medcenter.

Now, in the bright light of day, they got their first good look at Voyager's new look.

She was nearly unrecognizable from the ship they'd been sweating over just five weeks before, the one with gaping holes and scorch marks on nearly every square meter of the hull. Now she was clean, shiny, whole. The ugly rend across the starboard side where Deck 5 had overloaded was now restored. Every window glittered in the dazzling sunshine.

But Voyager did not bear much resemblance to the brand new vessel Janeway remembered taking command of at Utopia Planitia, either. The tritanium the Garenorians used was of a slightly different composite than Starfleet issue, and now Voyager's steel gray hull was dotted liberally with creamy white panels, giving her a speckled two-tone look. The new nacelles swept out behind her, the proper shape and size as the old, but instead of the usual blue glow emanating from them, the light was almost amethyst.

"Oh look!" Brooks said, pointing. "They're out on the hull!"

Sure enough, they could see as their shuttle approached that there were tiny figures in Starfleet uniforms and the orange coveralls of Garenorian technicians, walking about on top of Voyager's primary hull, Deck 4 level, and there was some kind of activity going on. Janeway strained to see what it was, and almost as if obliging her, the pilot took them over and flew a slow, tight circle above Deck 4, inside the encircling arms of the phaser banks.

Now she could see what the workers were doing. Enormous stencils had been laid down on top of the hull, and workers were busy spraying black paint inside them. The largest figures were almost completed, and they read: NCC-74656. Above that, another stencil was laid and surrounded by workers, but suddenly everyone looked up at the medshuttle and then scattered to line up against the bank of five windows set into Deck 3. Janeway looked through those windows curiously. So _that_ was what her quarters looked like from the outside. She hoped she hadn't left anything embarrassing laying around on any visible surfaces. It had never occurred to her to install curtains on windows that only ever faced the vacuum of space.

Their pilot slowly lowered the medshuttle until it came down to rest on top of Deck 4. The five passengers stood as the shuttle's ramp lowered, and Tuvok, the Doctor, Ashmore and Brooks stepped aside to let Janeway disembark first. It was a strange moment when her boot met the hull. Voyager had been her home for four years, and yet this was the first time she had ever stood on the starship's surface.

The wind was chilly and strong up here. Looking at the buildings far below them, Janeway felt as though she were standing at the top of a cliff, and vertigo seized her until she had taken a few steps and convinced herself that Voyager's surface felt stable enough. Tuvok slowly turned in a circle, gazing thoughtfully at the ship and the horizon around them. Ashmore and Brooks were kneeling on the hull, knocking on the solid metal with their hands and laughing with each other about something. Behind them, the medshuttle lifted off and was soon a diminishing dot in the distance.

The workers who had scattered for their landing were coming toward them now. Now Janeway could see that in addition to the Garenorians, her entire senior staff was here: Chakotay, Paris, Torres, Kim, Neelix and Seven. Everyone crowded around Janeway, the Doctor and Tuvok, and the next few minutes were a jumble of exclamations and congratulations, mostly directed at Tuvok, who was as stoic as ever but reasonably good-humored in the face of everyone's joy over the return of his eyesight.

"Well, what do you think?" Chakotay managed to ask Janeway at last, gesturing at the ship.

"She's beautiful," Janeway said, gazing at that smooth, perfect hull sloping down away from her feet. "Better than new, I think. She has a bit more character now."

"I can't wait to see what Starfleet Command says when they see this," Paris said. "They won't recognize their own ship."

"Supposedly we'll be able to make warp 9.977 with these new warp coils," Torres said.

Kim laughed. "Nice. A real big step up from warp 9.975."

"A .002 warp factor improvement, while small, is nevertheless a more efficient way to travel," Seven said.

"Boy, back in the day, whenever I patched up my old ship using something from a salvage operation, I almost always _lost_ efficiency," Neelix said.

"Here's to Garenorian quality control," Chakotay said, and everyone cried, "Hear, hear!" and shook the hands of the grinning Garenorian technicians standing among them.

"We are grateful for your assistance," Tuvok told them.

"Wait until you see what they're doing on the inside," Paris murmured, leaning closer to Janeway. "They, uh, altered our color scheme somewhat. I really don't know what Starfleet Command will say about _that_ when they see it. They've always been so fond of gray..."

On that ominous note, one of the technicians came forward and ceremoniously laid a device in Janeway's hands.

"What's this?" she asked.

"A paint applicator," Chakotay said with a grin. "We've just been waiting for you. Pick a letter. Your choices are: U, S, S, V, O, Y, A, G, E or R."

"Oh, are we doing this ourselves?" Janeway said with delight, looking at the stencil laid across the hull.

"One letter each. Captain gets first choice."

After a moment's thought, Janeway knelt down and painted in the V. One by one, they passed off the paint applicator and added another letter. Finally, Ensign Ashmore finished it off by adding the dots to "USS," and it was complete. The technicians peeled off the stencil and everyone stepped back and admired their work.

"Uh-oh. It's upside down," Paris said to Torres with a wink.

"It's supposed to be, you useless _p'takh_ ," Torres said. "No one's going to be looking at her from _this_ angle."

"Maybe we should paint a little 'Mark II' after the name," Kim said.

"Or hyphenate it. How does Voyager-A strike you?" the Doctor asked.

"It is the same ship," Seven said. "There is no reason to change the name."

"I concur," Tuvok said.

"Oh, I know! What about 'Voyager Reborn'?" Neelix said enthusiastically.

"Sounds like a killer holodeck program title," Chakotay said.

"She's still Voyager," Janeway said, squashing the idea decisively. "She's the same beautiful lady, just wearing a different coat."

* * *

 **Day 365**

 _Captain's log, stardate 54752.8_

 _Now that we've said our final goodbyes to the Garenorians, we've arrived at the Ram Izad refugee camp and are in the process of collecting the remaining 89 members of our crew. Everyone is present and accounted for, and it will be good to be together again. As soon as everyone's aboard, we'll be on our way home._

Chin in hand, Janeway stood on the platform in Astrometrics, looking up at the towering curved screen where three alternate routes through the next sector were displayed. Seven of Nine had put them together at her request, and now she needed only to choose one and they would once again set course for the Alpha Quadrant.

As she debated pros and cons, she took a sip of hot replicated coffee and oh, did she appreciate every drop of it as it went down. With her other hand she impatiently swept her hair back behind her shoulders. It had grown enough in the last several months that it was dangerously close to being non-regulation. She'd have to decide soon whether to cut it or let it grow long again. She was feeling torn about it. Despite her reluctance to cut it in the first place, by now she was used to the relative ease of washing and styling. And if she grew it out, it would mean months of having it at that aggravating length where you can't have it down and yet it's difficult to keep securely up.

She was still thinking when behind her, the door to Astrometrics swished open and Chakotay came up and joined her on the platform.

"Everyone aboard?" she asked.

"All aboard. We had quite a reunion going on in the shuttlebay. Everyone's glad to be home."

"Well, we're not quite home yet," Janeway said, chuckling a bit as she gestured at the star charts she was looking at. "Only 60,000 light years to go."

"Voyager is home, too."

"Very true," she said, and shot him a smile.

"So what do you think?" he asked, looking up at the screen.

"I like Option 1," Janeway said. "It passes several races the Garenor indicated were friendly, and just look at that beautiful Type 17 nebula we'll pass on the way."

Chakotay smiled. "You and your love affairs with nebulas. All right, Option 1 it is." He tapped his comm badge. "Chakotay to Bridge."

"Tuvok here."

"The Captain has chosen Option 1 for her dining pleasure tonight," Chakotay said, smiling. "Set course and engage."

"Aye, sir." A few moments later, they felt the thrum of the warp engines powering up, and they knew they were on their way.

"Well," Chakotay said to Janeway, "I don't know about you, but I'm ready for dinner. I heard Neelix was cooking up a storm in honor of the crew's reunion."

"A storm, is it? I just hope it doesn't involve clouds of smoke," Janeway said.

"The Garenorians just installed all-new cooking equipment in there. It can only help."

Laughing, they left Astrometrics. Traveling through Voyager's corridors had become a fascinating study of shade and hue. The Garenor had replaced the most severely damaged sections with new interior panels, and they'd used their own unique aesthetics in their choice of color. Some of the crewmembers had begun gleefully tossing out the name of each color they passed whenever they walked down the corridors, and as Janeway and Chakotay walked they couldn't help but play along. "Mauve... taupe... peach... gray..." - that was one of the old panels, of course - "azure... olive..."

As they approached the Mess Hall, they could hear muffled guitar chords, and they exchanged curious looks. The door hissed open and they saw a crowd of crewmembers gathered around Lt. Nicoletti, who was perched on the edge of a table strumming her guitar, and the Doctor and Seven of Nine standing beside her singing in unison with gusto:

 _"Home, home on the range,_

 _Where the deer and the antelope play,_

 _Where seldom is heard a discouraging word,_

 _And the skies are not cloudy all day."_

The crew were in an ebullient mood, interjecting whoops and hollers and cowboy yee-haws to encourage the singers, triggering waves of laughter. Then Seven started into the next verse alone, her lovely voice soaring above the noise:

 _"How often at night when the heavens are bright_

 _With the light from the glittering stars,_

 _Have I stood there amazed and asked as I gazed,_

 _If their glory exceeds that of ours."_

The Doctor gestured at the audience, and everyone joined in on the chorus, with more enthusiasm than grace:

 _"Home, home on the range,_

 _Where the deer and the antelope play..."_

Janeway wasn't singing because she knew her voice was unlovely, but Chakotay nudged her arm meaningfully, and she reluctantly joined in on the last line:

 _"And the skies are not cloudy all day!"_

Neelix bounded out of the kitchen, his chef's hat flapping ridiculously on his head, and shouted, "Spaghetti's up, everyone! Get it while it's hot!"

A crowd of chattering people surged into a line. Moving with the stream, Janeway and Chakotay picked up their trays and waited in line for the food.

"By the way," Chakotay said, leaning close so he could make himself heard. "I don't think I ever got a chance to tell you, but I like your hair this way."

Janeway shot him a look of surprise. "Really?"

"When it's down like this, the red shows more." He picked up a strand and let it slide through his fingers. "It suits you." In line behind them, Harren got a funny look on his face as he glanced over at them.

"Oh." Janeway hoped her face wasn't turning red, too. Apparently she had completely misunderstood his reaction when she had first cut her hair. "Thank you."

Holding out her tray, she let Neelix load it up with spaghetti and salad - a real salad, made from vegetables they'd transplanted to Airponics before departing from Plymouth Rock. Everything smelled good and she was hopeful even Neelix could not ruin a green salad and spaghetti sauce made from home-grown tomatoes.

They found a place to sit, passing Lt. Nicoletti, who was putting her guitar away into its case as she gayly chatted with Ayala. Janeway made a mental note to stop and speak to her after dinner.

She really needed to make a haircutting appointment.

 **THE END**

* * *

 _ **Author's note:** I hope you enjoyed the story! In the next few days I will begin posting an AU version of "Equinox" I have written as a sequel to this story. Several reviewers said they wanted to see more J/C, and this will definitely fit the bill. It will also flesh out the two-part episode and fix several plot holes as well as the out-of-character behavior of Janeway in the episode. Thanks for your interest, and I look forward to reading your final reviews for this story! _


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